Hogwarts-Another Drinny
by steelgray
Summary: "Don't leave me, Ginny." "I won't." Involves a ball, mysterious letters, and DRINNY in dangerous amounts! This is my first fanfic, and all characters and settings are all J.K. Rowling's. Luna is also there, of course, to help Ginny find love, even if it is in an unlikely candidate! PLEASE REVIEW!
1. Inter-House Acceptance & Mysterious Lett

Genevieve Weasley is the name. That infernal woman, J.K. Rowling; I mean, who else gets someone's name wrong? Especially someone who was a _wee _bit important to wizardkind's hero, Harry Potter?

However, if you call me Genevieve, or Ginevra, or Gobblygigglygook, I promise that I will hex you into oblivion. I'll take the Unbreakable Vow on it.

Today is August 31, and tomorrow is the beginning of term.

Tomorrow I start 6th year over again. I don't really mind, because there were many times when I didn't learn anything and was just plain terrified. Being there was terrifying, yes, but I wasn't about to stay behind when the battle hit! Everyone treats me like such a child. The first years will have double as many people, because they'll have to make up the previous year and the new year.

"Ginny!" called my mother, Molly Weasley. She'd saved my life in the Great Battle.

"Yeah, mum?"

"Make sure your trunks are packed, and cage up Everdeene."

Everdeene was my eagle owl. Errol had come home, after the Great Battle, leading a second owl, a great white eagle owl, female, who I christened Everdeene. I didn't know who'd sent her, and there was no card. My family had allowed me to keep her because the Great Battle was over and there was less risk that something would happen to me because of her.

"Yes mum," I yelled back, looking around my room. For the first time in my life, I was actually packed and ready for tomorrow. My trunks held my schoolbooks and clothes, and Everdeene's cage was cleaned and ready for her to travel in. My wand sat upon the dresser, and everything was in its rightful place.

After the war, the wizarding community had finally recognized the Weasley brilliance, as I liked to call it. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes sold a record one million Patented Daydream Charms and one billion Skiving Snackboxes. Charlie graced the pages of wizarding comics with his dragon-taming skills. He also played as an honorary member of England's Quidditch team. Bill had become a CEO of Gringotts, and Fleur a model for WizardingWorld. Percy had become undersecretary to the new Prime Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Harry, Ron, and Hermione did interviews with the Daily Prophet, WitchWeekly, The _Quibbler, _and Potterwatch, which had become a popular radio station. Dad was promoted at work, he became Kingsley's right-hand man, and mum wrote and published books on cooking for muggles.

More prosperous families' fortunes failed, however. Any who'd been directly associated with Voldemort who couldn't plead their case were convicted and sent to Azkaban, for life, or the Kiss. The Malfoys, I am sorry to say, got off, and I discovered that the Dark Marks did indeed fade away with Voldemort's death.

But, there were scars in our society. We mourned Fred, Tonks and Remus especially. Andromeda had tearfully taken Teddy home with her. There would be fewer students this year, parents who would rather send their students to Durmstrang or Beaubatons. Our Headmaster was to be Professor Slughorn, though he would still teach Potions.

J.K. Rowling sorely neglected me, I have to say. I am in Advanced Potions, Advanced Transfiguration, Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Advanced Charms. Hermione and I would often study together when the Golden Trio was fighting or the boys were off practicing for Quidditch (this, of course, was before I was old enough to make the team). I play Chaser in Quidditch, on top of all this.

Harry and I…we broke up at the end of my 5th year, for Harry's obvious heroic reasons. Once he came back, after the war, and we really talked, I realized that he wasn't the man I wanted. I wanted someone who would stick by me, not leave me for my own good. It sounded selfish, but it was true. I've never really had very much success with boys in the past, and my whole family was in a rage about Harry and me not getting back together. Ron threw a fit, and mum started crying when I broke the news to her. Hermione surprised me by nodding approvingly when I told her that I wasn't dating Harry.

"You'll help each other a lot," she said, "but not by dating one another."

I went downstairs to retrieve my broomstick, a flashy model by Silverspun. On my way down, Ron met me.

"Practicing?" he asked. He looked uncomfortable and I knew at once what was up.

"I don't want to date Harry," I told him coolly. "So you can just shove off. Even Hermione thinks we wouldn't work."

He turned an ugly shade of purple, and left me to find my Emeralda, the newest one out.

I found it in our broom shed, and went to practice the last day I could before term.

I woke up the next morning to Everdeene pecking me.

I groaned. "What?" I snapped, ripping the letter from her beak. She gave an irritated hoot and flew out the window again.

I opened the letter.

Dearest Genevieve,

You don't know me, not personally. If I told you who I was, you might not want to correspond with me. Your clue: I go to Hogwarts. But its 3:53 A.M., (at least it was when I began to write this letter) and Voldemort keeps jumping into my mind. No one else has come this close to him, save Potter, who, I am sure, would be too suspicious to answer a single one of my thoughts. Please don't be suspicious, please, trust me as much as you may. Until we read again,

With all due respect,

Oblivious

P.S. I sent the owl. I hope she's been treated well.

How curious, I thought, as I fell back asleep.

I woke up the next morning to my mum's shouting for breakfast. On my way out, I couldn't help but notice the letter again. It was printed on creamy white, expensive-looking parchment, and written in elegant handwriting. The ink glimmered, as if it was still wet, and was so black that it looked green in one light and silver in the next.

The envelope was deep black, a sharp contrast to the white of the parchment. Printed in white ink was my name: Genevieve Weasley.

Neither the parchment, nor the envelope gave away who had written the letter to me. 'Oblivious', as the person called himself/herself, wrote in a manner that seemed masculine, but could have easily been proven female as well. The handwriting was not one that I recognized, and, elegant as it was, could have been male or female.

Mum called again, and I answered, saying I would be down in a minute. I wouldn't tell anyone about this, considering how protective everyone had been of me since my first year, and my family might try to intercept and stop my new correspondence, who I fully intended to answer, if only to figure out who'd written to me. Therefore, I tucked the parchment carefully back into the envelope and put it into the side pocket of my little duffle bag that I'd take with me on the train.

I went down to breakfast, and said hello to Harry and Hermione, who'd decided to spend the last two weeks of vacation at the Burrow. They answered politely before returning to what they were doing.

I'd had a crush on Harry for the longest time, but I'd finally given it up and grown out of it. Harry was nice, but my feelings for him were more brotherly that romantic. Ron couldn't seem to accept it, and spent his time loudly proclaiming what a great friend Harry was, how amazing he was, and the like. Harry had finally gotten tired of the ploy to get my attention, and told Ron to sod off. I know because the whole house could hear them bickering about the matter.

We finally finished breakfast, and got all of our trunks into the Ministry car provided for us.

I sit beside Hermione and Ron. Considering the fact that there are only the four of us this year, the Ministry only needed to send one car. All of my brothers, with the exception of Ron, had finally graduated and would stop breathing down my neck all the time. Thank God for small blessings.

We finally arrived at King's Cross, and soon got onto the train. Harry, Hermione and Ron were swarmed by students wanting autographs and the like. Through the confusion, I managed to slip away quietly to the car where Prefects were supposed to meet.

I looked around the mostly deserted car. A couple of Ravenclaws sat in one corner, glaring at the one and only Draco Malfoy, who was immersed deeply in a book featuring a Firebolt and a Hungarian Horntail on the cover.

I sighed, sitting by Luna, who smiled at me over the copy of _The Quibbler _she held. Her radish earrings comforted me; some things never changed.

After about ten minutes, the rest of the Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl came in. Hermione, of course, had been made Head Girl, and, surprisingly, Malfoy had been made Head Boy.

Hermione stood at the front of the car. "Attention!" she called, sounding a little too much like McGonagall for my liking.

We quieted, and Malfoy got up to stand beside her, if you classified ten feet away as beside her, that's where he was.

Hermione didn't waste time. "Professor McGonagall would like to extend her greetings to you all today, and congratulate the combined efforts used to defeat V-Voldemort." her voice wavered only slightly.

Like the rest of them, my eyes flickered over to Malfoy, who gave no indication that he was upset or angry in his cold face. It made me want to get up and punch the git.

Hermione cleared her throat. "She requests that we get to work right away, however, on improving inter-House relations, and we'll start the morning thinking up some.

She took out one of her many self-inking, self-writing quills, which was poised over a piece of parchment, one that looked nothing like the kind that my letter was written on.

"Any ideas?" she asked, looking a little nervous.

"What about making people from different Houses team up to earn House points?" asked a boy in the year below mine. "Like the Gryffindors with the Hufflepuffs, or the Ravenclaws with the Slytherins?"

I admired his daring to go first, especially with Slytherins in the room.

"That sounds good," said Hermione, a little too encouragingly. "What else?"

A girl that had been giggling with her friends raised her hand, and Hermione nodded toward her. She spoke in a high voice.

"We could, like….have a, like, ball and, like, people from the, like, same House can't go together and it's, like, required that, like, everyone go and, like, it can be for, like, a grade."

"That's a great idea too," said Hermione, wincing at her terrible grammar. "Anyone else?"

No one raised his or her hand.

Hermione stood up and began handing out pieces of parchment and Anti-Cheating quills.

I quickly voted yes to both of the proposals and folded my parchment in half.

Hermione gathered everyone's papers and quills again after a few minutes.

She cleared her throat again. "Concerning the House points, we have passed it. She waved her hand over the ballots again. "Concerning the ball, we have passed it."

The girls giggled.

Hermione split us up, and I ended up on the Ball Committee with Luna, and, to my disgust, Malfoy.

I saw that the rest of my group contained the giggling girls, Madison and Karen, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Colin Creevey, who rolled his eyes in sympathy when Hermione assigned me as head of the group.

My group was larger than Hermione's, considering the fact that we had much more to do.

"Okay," I said. "The first thing that we need to do is to decide when this ball will be held."

"Make it soon, so it can be, like, a back-to-school ball or something." Said one of the gigglers.

"Yes," Zabini drawled, typical Slytherin fashion, "let's get this over with as soon as possible."

"Do it this weekend," said Colin. "Saturday night, while the back-to-school feel is still there. That way, we'll have just enough time to plan it, and no one will have much homework yet. It also gives everyone time to owl-order or owl home for the stuff they need."

"This weekend, then?" I asked, "Do I have a second?"

"Second," said Pansy Parkinson, to my great surprise.

"All who want it to be this weekend?" I asked.

The majority of hands went up, even the Slytherins'.

"Now we need a theme," said Karen.

"Masquerade," said Luna, also surprising me. "That way no-one will be too embarrassed about their date."

We quickly decided this was the best option, and that the dance would be formal, because we were serious about what we were doing, that inter-House relations were important.

Or so we told ourselves.

"Now," I said, "should we let everyone pick a date themselves, or have it drawn randomly?"

There was an explosion of voices.

"Let us choose! And the person we ask can't refuse!" said Karen and Madison.

"Random," said Colin and Luna.

"How about," said Pansy, "we have it be random, but," she paused, "have it be by compatibility percentages, provided that they aren't in the same house. It will help relations immensely if everyone realizes that they actually like people from other Houses."

"A compromise," said Zabini.

We debated a little longer, but eventually decided Parkinson's proposal was the best. It passed by a slim margin.

"Fourth years and above, right?" I asked. The reply was affirmative.

We eventually determined that Pansy, Karen, and Madison would set up the Great Hall, and they quickly began to brainstorm. Colin and Luna would design the posters and arrange for music. Blaise, Draco and I would figure out the pairings, the food and oversee anything else that came up.

We adjourned the meeting and arranged to have another one for our committee on Tuesday.

We reached Hogwarts soon after, for the second year since Dumbledore's death.

McGonagall got the first years sorted, and then spoke.

"Another year beginning. For some of you, this will mean a class twice the size as you are used to. For others, this is a second chance.

First years, please note that the forest is forbidden, as will the rest of the students.

Our Defense against the Dark Arts position will be filled by Professor Hedgeburn."

The students all clapped for the new teacher.

"The last announcements will be made by the Head Girl, Miss Hermione Granger."

Hermione stood up and strode to the front. If she was nervous, she didn't show it.

"Hello," she said. "Professor McGonagall requested that this year, we work on our inter-House relations. The Heads and Prefects are working on this together, and we had two ideas we planned to carry out thus far."

"The first is headed by me. It is a plan that has to do with the House Cup. Two Houses will combine their efforts to win the House Cup. One winning team, one losing team. Two Houses will have to combine their efforts, in short, work together, to win the House Cup."

"The two teams, as decided by my committee, are to be Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, as well as Slytherin and Gryffindor."

It was a good pairing. Gryffindors and Slytherins had had a long, vicious history for obvious reasons. Ravenclaws, in particular, always looked down on Hufflepuffs.

"Now, my other head of the Ball Committee will explain what her committee intends to do."

Colin had to forcibly push me up and shove me toward the front. I swallowed and jogged up to the teachers' panel.

I tried to smile. "Hi, for those of you who don't know me, I'm Ginny Weasley." I swallowed again. "My committee has a planned a Back-to-School Ball for fourth years and above this Saturday, but there's a catch." Some of the girls looked nervous. They anxiously scanned the room for prospective dates. I grinned to myself. "Your dates will not be of your own choosing."

The entire Hall was in uproar. Professor McGonagall had to stand up to stop the noise. "SILENCE!" she commanded.

Once everyone quieted, I continued. "Your dates will not be from your own House, but will be chosen by compatibility factors. The purpose of this is to show you that not all Ravenclaws spend their days studying, that not all Hufflepuffs can't stand up for themselves, that not all Slytherins are arrogant, and that not all Gryffindors," a twinkle entered my eye, "are rule breaking heroes."

Everyone turned to look at Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"You will all get your dates by owl Wednesday morning," I said. "This will be a formal ball. Thank you."

I sat down, and the feast began.

"That was a brilliant idea, Ginny," said Ron.

"Not all me, but thanks anyway, Ron," I smiled at my older brother.

Soon enough, the feast ended, and I crawled gratefully into bed.

At breakfast the next morning, I got my schedule and saw that I didn't have Defense against the Dark Arts until Thursday, and Harry told me that Quidditch tryouts were Monday night, next week.

So much for not being busy, I thought to myself. I still had to find suitable dress robes for the ball.

Blaise and Draco walked in then. I took a deep breath, and walked up to them. Thankfully, the Dream Team had already left for Potions. If Ron saw me with the two of them! Nevertheless, this was about inter-House relations, and I couldn't be a hypocrite. Besides, I wasn't going to do the whole thing by myself.

"We need to figure out what the menu will be for Saturday and how we're going to do this compatibility thing," I said to them in a rush.

"Relax, Weasley," said Blaise, not a trace of anxiety in him. "We'll start at three. We'll meet you in the kitchens.

"Okay," I said, walking to my first class.

It's during History of Magic that I finally have time to write back to Oblivious. I picked up my plain parchment and standard quill and blue ink, which I'd gotten for my birthday, and wrote.

Dear Oblivious,

What would you like to talk about?

Sincerely,

Genevieve Weasley

P.S. Who are you?

I give it to Everdeene to owl to Oblivious.

The day passes quickly, and I reach the kitchens by 2:55.

Dobby, a house elf that Harry befriended, runs up to me.

He bows, long nose nearly touching the ground. "What can Dobby get for Miss Wheezy?"

"A cuppa tea if you have it, Dobby. But I'm waiting for a couple of…um…friends."

He hands me my tea, and motions me toward the back, where he and a few other elves set out three chairs and a table.

"What do you need, Miss Wheezy?"

"Tea and some sandwiches would be great, Dobby. Thank you."

I sat down on one of the squishy chairs, spreading out my notes, parchment, and took out my quill, wand, and inkstand.

Blaise and Malfoy showed up then.

Dobby led them both to the back where I sat. I wasn't sure how to gauge Malfoy's reaction to Dobby, because he didn't show any sign of emotion.

They sat down on chairs across from me, and Dobby brought out elegant little cucumber and turkey triangles and a teapot.

"Thank you, Dobby," I said. "If you could stay here, we need to organize food for a ball, fourth years and older."

He nodded, great orbs of eyes blinking up at me.

"I think that the ball should be held after dinner, so that all we need is light finger foods," I said.

"How about seven until midnight, so we can have something really explosive at the end, and be like, 'yay, school!'" asked Blaise, looking at his fingernails in a bored manner, not looking excited at all.

"Sounds good to me," I said. "Malfoy?"

"Fine," he replied.

I wrote it down.

After an hour, we decided on have three drinks: pumpkin juice, iced lemon water, and an excellent concoction made up by Winky, which consisted of iced limes and cherries blended together.

For food, we decided on the cucumber and turkey sandwiches, pita crisps and hummus, and an assortment of cheesecakes, cookies and chocolates.

"Now we need to go see a Professor for help with the dates." I said.

The Slytherins sitting across from me nodded, looking bored as ever.

I thanked Dobby and Winky, and we all walked out the door. My shoulder brushed against Malfoy's, and I jumped, expecting him to complain about having to clean his robes. Which he did.

"I know that this will be extremely hard for you, Weaselette, but kindly refrain from touching me. I just bought these robes last week and I don't want to have to burn them."

Zabini cut off my retort by asking a question.

"What's the time, Weasley?" Zabini asked.

"Four o'clock. Why?"

"No reason," he replied, "but I have to go."

I crossed my arms. "How do I know that this isn't some plot of you and Malfoy's to make me do all the work?"

"It's not, Draco'll stay."

I sighed, "Fine. However, you had better be there on Tuesday."

"Sure, Weasley." Then he ran toward the dungeons.

I shook my head. "C'mon, Malfoy, what teacher should we ask?"

"I don't know, probably Hedgeburn, he doesn't hate me yet. What do you think, Weaselette?"

"Don't call me that!" I snapped.

"Why not?" he smirked. There was the Malfoy we all knew and disliked. "Why does it matter now?"

"What do you mean, Malfoy?"

"See," he said, some of the old sharpness in his grey eyes, "if you get to address me by my last name, why can't I yours?"

I didn't reply, spinning on my heel, and almost smacking into Professor Hedgeburn.

I turned Weasley red. "I'm sorry, Professor."

"Not a problem. You must be a Weasley."

"I am. Ginny Weasley. I was wondering if Malfoy and I could ask you a question."

The brown haired, middle-aged wizard glances briefly at Malfoy before giving him a curt nod. Malfoy doesn't react, but a faint pinkish tinge comes to his pale face.

"Professor," I say, "we were wondering if you knew any spells to help us do the compatibility percentages for the ball."

The new teacher shook his head ruefully. "I would ask Madam Pince in the library. I'm sure that there's a spell for that."

"Thank you, Professor," I said respectfully. I walked toward the library, leaving Malfoy to follow me like a puppy, if he could resemble one.

I entered the library, Malfoy still trailing me, probably because he didn't want to be associated with me. It wasn't as if I cared, because I was in no hurry to be associated with him.

"Madam Pince, I was wondering if you had any books associated with spells for compatibility? It's for the ball on Saturday."

She pointed me toward an entire bookshelf that housed a hundred thick, pink volumes. "Its one of those books."

"Thanks," I muttered. "Malfoy, come help me with this."

"Do I have to, Weaselette?" came Malfoy's practiced drawl of indifference. "They're pink!"

"As if their color makes me happy, Malfoy. Come and help. The sooner we find the spell, the sooner you can go and fix your hair."

His hand flew to the blonde strands. "What's wrong with it?"

I sighed. "Nothing that a little gel can't fix with _most_ people. Let's get this over with."

He finally sighed and mimicked my cross-legged position on the ground. I picked up a book and flipped to the index.

"I found the love potions, Weaselette, though I bet you already know how to use those."

"Oh please, Malfoy. Even if I did use them, it would at least work for me, unlike you."

I heard a snort and a page turn. "Weaselette, I can assure you that three quarters of the girls in this school secretly think that I'm hot. Not that I would even consider dating _them._"

"I'm going to laugh when we find the spell and you aren't compatible with anyone."

"Speak for yourself, Weaselette."

We lapsed into silence for the next hour.

"I found it!" I proclaimed triumphantly.

"What is it?" asked Malfoy sulkily, probably because he hadn't been the one to find it.

"The spell is 'amortitus specilatio', and we need to put all the names in a bowl and say the spell. It's supposed to take all the names and sort them by highest compatibility."

"We have enough time before dinner to get this done, Weaselette. Let's get the class lists from McGonagall and get this thing over with."

We got the lists and went to the kitchens, so we could be sure to have dinner while we designed the partner letters.

We got all the names into a large basin.

"You do the spell, Malfoy. If you don't like whom you get, then it won't be my fault."

"Fine, Weaselette. It's obviously because I'm the better wizard.'' He waves his wand before I can retort. "Amortitus specilatio."

The papers fly out of the bowl and onto the tabletop, one on top of the other, signifying the partners.

Forgetting myself, I squeal. Picking up the pile with Hermione's name on top, I find Ron's underneath at 79 percent.

"Darn," I said, "Remember to put the pairs that got the same House back in the bowl for re-sorting."

I picked up Pansy Parkinson's next. "Merlin's beard, Malfoy! Parkinson got Michael Corner, 54 percent!"

"Keep in mind, Weaselette, that I'm not exactly upset about that."

"Sure you aren't…Luna got Harry…84 percent. I'm so happy for them!"

"If they can get past the Crumple-Horned Snorkack episodes. Zabini got Chang," said Malfoy.

"Ooh, I found mine!"

"You mean that you actually got some-"

"Oh my God! Tell me this isn't happening! I can't believe it!"

"Just because you got Smith -"

"Malfoy, you git, I got _you_!" I wailed. "96 percent!"

Malfoy was at my side in an instant, snatching the papers from my hands. "This is impossible! What a bunch of baloney! This can't be right!"


	2. Food, Letter-Writing and Owl Treats

"You cast the spell! If anyone should be complaining, it should be me!"

"I didn't mess up the spell! Moreover, it's obviously not right! The only plausible explanation is that it's a fluke! I can't have a _96 percent _compatibility with a_ Weasley._"

"Imagine that, Malfoy," my voice was scathing. "I almost agree with you! But everyone else got a semi-decent reading."

Malfoy snorted. "Tell that to Pansy when she finds out that she has to go to the dance with a Hufflepuff, Weaselette."

"Anyone with a name like Zacharias would go perfectly with someone like Pansy. They can argue and insult one another all night!"

"Like we are right now? Sounds like fun…not."

"Keep laughing, Malfoy. I meant that they would be happy insulting one another. Besides, Luna and Harry got paired!"

"Scar-boy and Nargle-girl. Oh yeah, perfect pairing, Weaselette."

"Ron and Hermione got paired! They've been going out for a year!"

"But-"

I interrupted him. "Blaise and Cho! They are so alike that it's not even funny!"

"Weasel-"

I steamrollered on. "And besides, the Weasleys are an excellent old pureblood family with a penchant for being sorted into Gryffindor House, which is better than Slytherin any day of the week! So what if we don't hate muggleborns! We saved the freaking wizarding world from Voldemort! We're prominent members of the Ministry of Magic. We're war heroes! So listen, and listen well, Malfoy, if anyone in this equation should be complaining, it should be me. I have to go to the bloody ball with an arrogant little ferret who can't even insult people properly!"

"Weaselette!" Malfoy barked sharply. "You have no idea how I helped Potter! I did what I could! Do you think that it was easy for me not to kill Dumbledore when I had Voldemort on my back to do it? Do you know what I could do for Potter when he ended up captured in Malfoy Manor, guess what Weaselette; there was nothing I could do! He would've killed my family! He would have made me watch and then kill me if I didn't do what he wanted! So you know what, not everything was hunky-dory for me either!"

I looked up at Malfoy, whose face was pale as ever. Nevertheless, his grey eyes reflected grief not unlike what I often found in Harry's emerald green ones.

I shook my head to clear it. Stuff and nonsense! Feeling sorrow for a Malfoy!

"I suppose not," I said quietly. "But," my voice suddenly businesslike, unblemished by emotion, "it is a masquerade. Wear a mask, Malfoy."

"Because people would not recognize me even with a mask, Weaselette." Malfoy whined.

"Because people would not recognize me even with a mask, Malfoy." I mimicked. "Malfoy, you could go as an albino ferret!"

"Weaselette, you could go as a weasel!"

We glared at one another.

"Miss Wheezy?" Dobby tugged on the bottom of my robes.

I smiled down at the elf. "Yes, Dobby?"

"Miss Wheezy, what would you and the young sir like for dinner?"

"What do you already have prepared, Dobby?"

He brightened considerably. "Oh, miss, we has lots ready. Sheppard's pie, treacle tarts, pie, fried potatoes, eggs, fried chicken, clam chowder, onion soup, French bread…"

The house-elf didn't look like he was going to stop anytime soon, so I interrupted him as politely as possible. "It all sounds wonderful, Dobby. Why don't you surprise us?"

Dobby's face lit up. "Oh yes, Miss Wheezy! That will be right out Miss!"

"Now you've done it, Weaselette," Dr-Malfoy drawled. I'd almost called him by his given name! I shuddered at the sheer craziness of such a thought.

"Done what?"

"Given him free reign. Don't plan on being able to move when we leave."

Dobby, as well as about a dozen other elves came out of the main kitchen. Each one was carrying a dish. I quickly cleared the table, wondering what I'd done.

First Dobby placed Sheppard's pie in front of me. The following elves set plates of steak, onion soup, fried chicken wings, among many other dishes, on the table.

After the last two elves had set cups of pumpkin juice and buttterbeers in front of us, they left.

"I hate to admit it, Malfoy, but you were right. Imagine that," I said.

"I did tell you, Weaselette, you just didn't believe me."

"Enjoy it while you can, Mal-ferret."

"I will, Weaselette, and I will also completely ignore that insult."

I sighed. "Why don't you figure out the other pairs while I draft the partner letters? We can surprise everyone and get them out by tomorrow morning, maybe by tonight."

"Don't you have to run it by Granger?" Malfoy smirked.

I drew myself up as tall as I could while sitting down. "Malfoy, anyone who makes me go up to the front of the room, without any kind of prior warning, in front of the whole entire school; they forfeit any kind of authority that they have over me. If Hermione gets mad, blame it on me. I am the head of the committee."

"Feisty for a weasel," Malfoy commented.

I grinned evilly. "You got one thing right, Malfoy. I want to get it all done tonight, so I don't have to put up with you for nearly as long. See how this works? Yes? Great. Now get working."

After about an hour, I produced a satisfactory letter to send out with a tricky bit of magic to get all the respective pairs on their respective letters. It read:

Dear Miss Weasley.

Your date for the Back-to-School Ball, scheduled for this Saturday, from 7 p.m. to 12 a.m. will be Mr. Malfoy of Slytherin House. You are both well matched with a compatibility factor of 96 percent. Please note that this is a formal ball.

With all due respect,

Head of the Ball Committee,

Genevieve Weasley

I felt sick just reading it.

By the time we finished, it was nearly 10 o'clock, and most students would already be in bed.

"Why don't you go, Malfoy? I have to get these up to the Owlery, and then make sure that they all get out. It could be awhile."

"Sure, Weaselette," he said, leaving.

I gathered up all of our notes and the letters to put into my messenger bag. On my way out the door, I said goodbye to Dobby and thanked all of the elves for an excellent dinner.

The trek to the Owlery was long, and I kept my wand out, clutched in my hand. The corridors were dark, and the windows let in a ghostly moonlight. It was eerie.

I began climbing the stairs, greeting some of the ghosts, before making it to the passageway that led to the Owlery.

I could feel eyes on me. Paranoia set in, making me quicken my pace and glance around the dark hall nervously.

I knocked into someone. I tripped over their feet, and let out a shriek as I began to fall, when strong hands caught me about the waist before I could hit the ground. I stumbled out of their grasp, wand raised, ready and alert.

"Relax, for goodness' sakes, Weaselette, it's me."

"Malfoy." I almost sighed in relief. To think, to be glad that he was here! What was wrong with me?

He walked into the moonlight. "Too true," he smirked. "Scared, Weaselette?"

"Of course not!" I proclaimed hotly. "You startled me, skulking around in the dark, at night, when no one else was around, and then knocking me over!"

"You have to admit that I did catch you, Weaselette."

"What are you doing here, anyway? I thought I told you to leave." I sounded harsher than I wanted to.

"McGonagall saw me going back to the dungeons, and demanded an explanation for being out so late. When I finished, she told me that I had to accompany you to the Owlery because it was so late at night, like you just said, and that you couldn't go anywhere alone, especially _at night_…et cetera, et cetera."

We started walking towards the Owlery again.

The Owlery was in a large tower, with an open ceiling to allow the birds to leave as they chose. I found Everdeene and gave her an owl treat from my bag. She hooted in appreciation as I tied the first letter to her leg and removed another. She probably hadn't been able to deliver it, considering I had been in classes or the kitchen all day.

"Is she yours?" asked Malfoy from behind me.

I jumped. Turning to face him, I replied. "Yes, she was…a gift."

"From your parents?"

"No…I don't know who exactly, but it's someone I might know from Hogwarts."

"That particular breed and color of owl is fairly uncommon." He walked towards the back of the Owlery. "Toss me a letter, Weaselette." I heard his faint tenor voice say.

I threw a letter towards him. "How do I know you won't just rip it up out of spite?"

"Because I'm me. I know these fools are going to be unhappy enough without my help."

I hurled an owl treat at his head.

"Ow!" he yelped.

"Don't be negative!"

"Okay, okay Weaselette. They're all going to fall madly in love. And then everyone will fail their classes…forget to eat…get anorexia…and then di-Ow!"

Who knew that owl treats were so effective when dealing with ferrets?

Another owl flew towards the sky. It was a male, with deep chocolate brown feathers, and huge visage.

"What do you call your owl, Malfoy?"

"Incentius," he replied resentfully.

"Fancy."

"Like anything, I suppose. And yours?"

I tied another letter to a school owl's leg. "Everdeene."

"Oh. Another letter."

We finished with the first round of letters and stood waiting for the owls to return so we could send the next round. I leaned against the wall and pulled out a quill and parchment. I opened up Anonymous' latest letter.

Dearest Genevieve,

Whatever you would like to talk about. Tell me about yourself. Until we read again,

With all due respect,

Oblivious

P.S. I obviously can't tell you that. That's why I'm anonymous.

"What are you doing?" asked Malfoy.

"Writing."

"To whom are you writing to?"

"Anonymous." I said, smirking to myself. An answer that didn't seem like an answer.

"Who's anonymous?"

"That's a question that we'd both like to know the answer to."

"So you don't know?"

"That's what I said. Now, please shut up and let me write. Don't be so nosy."

"So how'd you meet this person if you don't know who they are?"

I turned to face him, exasperated. "He or she sent me my owl as a gift."

"I see." He paused. "Do you like them?"

"I don't know yet. Now please let me write."

Dear Anonymous,

About me? Well…okay. I'm a sixth year, and my favorite subject is either Charms or Transfiguration. I probably like Charms a little better. I'm kind of stubborn, and I'm sarcastic.

After school, my aspirations include getting onto a professional Quidditch team to play as a Chaser or Seeker. I really like flying in the early morning and late at night. It's funny, because most girls dream of romantic walks on the beach, or candlelit, expensive dinners. My dream date would probably be flying, late at night, in near darkness, for hours and hours on end, until we're too tired and it's too late to see anything. Then, we'd have a light picnic supper by the lake and fall asleep there. However, I'm running into tangents. My other aspiration is to be a prominent member in society. What I mean is that I'd like to be a high-class Ministry official, or a Quidditch sensation, something that I have to work really hard for. Something that isn't just handed to me on a silver platter.

I'm the head of the Ball Committee. From the sounds of it, it's going to be a lot of fun. I hope that everyone likes (or learns to like) their pairing, which we finished tonight and are currently sending out.

Quidditch tryouts are Monday. Between schoolwork, the ball, buying dress robes, practicing for tryouts and everything else that I have to deal with, I'm not going to be able to sleep! Nevertheless, it's only for one week, I suppose.

I apologize for telling you about stuff that I'm sure you already know about, but so is life, right?

Chao for now, letters to send,

Genevieve Weasley

P.S. Can you tell me if you are a boy or a girl?

"Hey, Weaselette, are you ready to send out the next batch of letters or are you still writing to your secret admirer?"

"It's not my secret admirer! How do you know if it isn't a girl? And besides, I am done!"

I defiantly sealed my envelope and walked over to Everdeene, who'd just returned. I tied the letter to her leg, and she flew into the night once again.

"Malfoy?" I couldn't see him. "Malfoy? It's just like you to leave me to do all the work after you yell at me for not doing anything! Don't be such a hypocrite!"

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you missed me, Weaselette."

He stepped out from behind a marble column.

"Hardly," I retorted. "You were the one that was so quick to answer."

"At the risk of losing my hearing, Weaselette. And for clarification, that would have been your fault."

"Just grab a letter already, Malfoy."

"With pleasure, I'm sure," he said sarcastically.

Two hours later, we were almost finished.

"Last on-n-nes," I yawned, eyelids drooping as I secured a letter.

"Finally," said, Malfoy, not sounding tired in the least bit. I envied and hated him for it.

"Sod off," I said grumpily, stifling another yawn.

I leaned against a wall. I would just close my eyes…just for one minute….


	3. Ball Dates & Ball Games

Author's Note: Please rate and review! I promise to post another chapter if you do!

I woke up on a surprisingly squishy bed. I blinked, taking in my surroundings. My messenger bag lay on the ground beside me, and someone had taken off my shoes and outer robes. I sat up and realized that I was once again in the Room of Requirement.

I ended up sitting there for a long time, remembering. Everyone that had been involved in Dumbledore's Army, save Marietta, had at one point stayed overnight in this room. This had been the room that everyone met in before the Great Battle. This room had given so much to me, but taken so much away.

Hermione had told me that this room had burnt down by Crabbe because of an uncontrollable fire curse. I supposed that it had somehow repaired itself, because it looked just like it always had.

Sighing, I stood up. My robes had been neatly laid at the end of the bed, and my shoes sat side by side on the floor.

I slipped on my shoes and robes, shivering from the cool morning air in the castle.

I decided to go up to Gryffindor Tower to change out of yesterday's clothes and freshen up. Luna greeted me soon after I stepped out of the room.

"Ginny!" she called.

"Luna," I said, stopping to talk to her.

"I can't believe that you partnered me with Harry. I thought that he liked you!"

"Nope. And I'm totally over him. I think that you guys would go really well together, Luna. I'm happy for you. I've got to go up to GryffindorTower though, so I'll see you in a few minutes and we can talk, okay?"

"Okay," I think she said, but I had already rushed upstairs.

Once I had freshened up and had made it back to the Great Hall for breakfast, I talked to Luna, whose table was beside mine.

"So, who'd you get, Ginny?" she asked.

I considered her. I eventually sighed. "Luna, you have to promise that you won't tell a soul, especially my brother. He would be absolutely furious. I want to put it off for as long as I can, hopefully not tell him at all. I don't really want to go with the guy I got, and don't think for a single second that I'm at all excited."

"Tell me already, Ginny. You make it sound like a fate worse than death."

"It is. Guess."

"Everything happens for a reason, Gin. Hmm, is it a Slytherin?"

"Yes." I tried not to look over at Draco, who sat by Blaise and Goyle, looking bored as ever.

"Is he a 7th year?"

"Yes." Don't look, Ginny, don't look!

"It's Draco Malfoy, of course."

"Shh!" I hissed, looking around us in alarm. "How'd you know?"

"It might have had something to do with the fact that you've been looking at him all morning." She smirked and looked at me pointedly.

I scoffed. "Not a chance, Luna. You're bonkers."

"So I've heard. Multiple times from various people."

I changed the subject hastily. "Who'd you and Colin get to do the music, Luna?"

"We got two groups, Gin. We got Violain to do half, and the Grenade Girls to do the other half."

"No way, Luna! How did you do it? They're the most popular bands right now!"

"I'll give you a hint; it starts with H and ends with Arry."

"You devilish girl, you, Luna. But I have to admit, your musical taste is fantastic."

"I know," she grinned. "Do you want to owl-order your dress robes with me later? I can do the alterations when we get them."

"Really? Yes, naturally, Luna. How about after our meeting tonight?"

"Su-"

Luna and I looked up to see none other than Harry Potter himself bashfully approaching us. I grinned and winked at him, making him blush harder than he already was.

"Hi, Harry," said Luna.

"Hey L-Luna," he stuttered, "Can I talk to you?"

"Of course, Harry." She stood up and waved to me as they walked out of the hall.

I grinned, returning to my pancakes and sausages. I'd known that this would be a good idea.

Everdeene flew into the room, carrying another letter from Anonymous, which I decided that I'd read in History of Magic.

I heard raised voices as I left the hall. Ron and Hermione.

"It's not my fault that I got Grant, Ron!"

I knew whom she was referencing. Grant Frères was a seventh year and in Ravenclaw. He possessed devastatingly good looks and brains to match. Naturally, Ron was jealous.

"Actually, it is! If you were less, less _you_, maybe it would've been someone else!" Ron shouted, sounding less like a hero and more like a jackass with ridiculous reasoning power.

I decided to step in before things could get out of hand.

"Ron, Hermione!" I ran up to them. "I did the partners myself. You would've been together, but you're in the same House."

"Oh," said Ron, turning a deep shade of burgundy. "Right, of course."

Hermione cast him a look of disgust, her eyes saying I-told-you-so. She drew herself up.

"Well, Ron, if you've gotten over yourself, we have to get to Potions class."

"Right," he said, following her meekly.

Later that day, I sent out letters. The first was for the committee meeting that we had scheduled for today, at four o'clock in the EastTower. The second was another response to Anonymous.

Dearest Genevieve,

That sounds absolutely lovely. I always wanted to be in the Leagues myself. Maybe I'll see you there, huh?

I'm sure that the Ball will be just fine, don't worry about it.

Now, I'm off to do blasted Transfiguration homework. It's our first week back and I still can't avoid the stuff. Until we read again,

With all due respect,

Oblivious

P.S. I'm a guy.

I ended up scribbling a short note back because I had to work on homework as well. By the time I had finished, it was time for our meeting.

The EastTower was circular and had no ceiling. We ended up sitting on poufs to discuss everything.

"So, which ballroom are you guys going to use?" I asked Pansy.

"We're going to use the Crystal Ballroom," she said. "It's not the biggest ballroom, but it's the fanciest."

"What decorations are you using?"

Madison giggled. "Pansy," she gave the older a grudging look of admiration, "has planned most of that. There are going to be a lot of ice sculptures and chandeliers and silver and crystal chinaware. The look that we're going for is sophisticated and delicate. The dance floor is planned to be crystal, so when the light hits it, it will sparkle. And of course, it will be like dancing on air, because crystal is transparent."

"So, it's all planned, and you know how to do the spell work and how long it's going to take, right?"

"It will all be perfect for Saturday," Pansy said frostily. "I know what I'm doing."

"And Luna, Colin, you guys have all the music, all the posters with the details, times and everything about it being for a participation grade in every single class one takes?"

"Violain and the Grenade Girls, all set. All the posters are being put up tomorrow," said Colin.

"Fantastic," I said. "And Blaise, Malfoy and I found the pairings, sent them out, and took care of all the food. What did you all think of your pairs?"

"You paired me with a Hufflepuff!" Pansy exclaimed.

"I was happy with mine," said Luna.

"If there's nothing else," I said, observing Pansy's red face, "we'll adjourn the meeting."

"What about you, Weasley?" Pansy shot out challengingly.

Everyone froze, looking at me.

I blushed. "Excuse me, Pansy? What are you asking?"

"I'm asking about your _date_, Weasley. Who are you oh-so-compatible with that you can partner the rest of us with Hufflepuffs?" she looked at me contemptuously.

"Well," I said, "first of all, I couldn't partner three Houses worth of people with Hufflepuffs, unless I had you cut them in half or something."

"You're avoiding the question, Weasley. Of all people, _I _couldn't be partnered with one of those spineless idiots."

"Funny," I said, voice bitingly sarcastic, "Cedric Diggory, I seem to remember, was a Hufflepuff. In fact, he was the person that was chosen to represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament. Strange, he seemed to be someone who you openly supported. However, maybe that was just me being silly, Parkinson. After all, Hufflepuffs are 'spineless idiots'."

Shocked silence meets my ears. "And besides that, Pansy, this Ball is all about _Inter-House relations. _If you can't deal with it, you don't even have to go to the Ball at all, as far as I'm concerned. But, it's your grades that take the hit, not mine."

And with that, I swept out of the room. I had homework to do and Quidditch tryouts to prepare for.

I finally got up in the air after dinner, and the frosty autumn night cooled my temper and my nerves. Unfortunately, everyone had been busy with homework and buying robes.

"I'm really sorry that we didn't get to order our dress robes tonight, Luna," I called over the rushing of the wind.

Luna clutched her broom tightly, and smiled stiffly before calling back to me. "It's alright, Gin. I know that you have to practice for Quidditch."

She was being such a good sport about all of this that it made me feel even worse. "If we order them tomorrow morning, they'll be here by Thursday," I said. "Can you fix them up with enough time, Luna?"

"Sure," she said, hovering in front of the goal hoops and trying not to look down.

"I'll help." I shifted the practice Quaffle that I held in my hands.

"Please don't, Gin. That could be more disastrous than me helping you practice."

"You underestimate yourself, Luna," I tried to sound convincing. "You just need some practice."

She laughed. "Let's get this over with, Ginny. It's freezing out here."

"At least it isn't raining," I endeavored be optimistic. In truth, it was a terrible night to be out, practicing Quidditch especially, but I had to make the team. It was a matter of pride.

"Indeed. Ready, Gin?"

"Yeah, I'm ready."

I managed to conjure up some large bird transparencies that flapped and tried to get in my way. I soared above the pitch on my quick broom, and easily outmaneuvered the birds.

I flew at Luna, and threw the ball. It soared past her, and I grinned before swooping to grab it before it could hit the ground.

I noticed two figures on the ground, both toting sleek broomsticks like mine. I realized it was Malfoy and Blaise after a moment.

I frowned. "Com'n down, Luna. We have company."

I flew to the ground and dismounted. "What are you doing here?" I asked, hands on my hips.

Blaise stopped laughing at something that Malfoy had said.

"Weasley," he nodded at me.

"In case you two hadn't noticed, we're already practicing." I had had a wretched, wretched day, dealing with the Ball. I was going to practice in peace.

Luna dismounted her broom and stood beside me, looking serene as ever.

Malfoy glared down at me, and I glared up at him. I was sure that we looked comical, as he was tall and blonde and aristocratic looking, with his hands crossed across his chest, and I was a half foot shorter than him, with red hair and a small frame, hands planted on my hips.

Luna cleared her throat. "We could always practice together."

Malfoy and I looked at her, scandalized. "Practice with _him_?"

"Practice with _her_?" he echoed.

Blaise shrugged. "You don't exactly play the same positions."

"But I have specific game strategies that I use!" I choked out.

"It's pretty much even," said Luna. "You're from Gryffindor, and he's from Slytherin. One to one. And besides, Ginny, you need some decent competition."

"He's not decent competition, Luna! He doesn't even play Chaser!"

"And it doesn't make any sense to stand here arguing all night, Ginny," she said, acting like I hadn't interrupted. "Blaise and I'll play Keeper. Unless, Blaise," she addressed him, "you're terrific at Keeping, because I'm not."

"No."

"Good. Then you and Draco'll play Chasers, Ginny."

"Fine," I spat, "this should go quickly. Ten goals, Malfoy. The first with ten goals wins."

"You're on, Weaselette."

I ignored the secretive smile that Luna gave me. I had a game to win.

I put a Hover charm on the ball, and let it float in the middle of the pitch. Malfoy and I strode to opposite ends of the pitch, and Luna and Blaise took up their positions in front of the goal posts.

Luna whistled, and I flew toward the Quaffle and grabbed it a split second before Malfoy. I streaked upwards, toward Blaise, who was planted in the center of the posts.

I feinted right, and then shot for the left. The ball streaked through the air, and just before it could successfully soar through the goal posts, Malfoy came out of nowhere and plucked it out of the air. He smirked at me and I flew back towards Luna to block him.

I tried a new technique that I had seen in professional Quidditch over the summer. I got in close to Malfoy, and then spun in a circle around him. His head snapped back and forth trying to follow me, and, when his head was turned, I snatched it out of his slackened hands, zooming away, grinning impishly.

I shot it toward Blaise, and it skimmed his gloves before soaring through the left hoop.

I grinned, even as Malfoy grabbed the Quaffle.

After about an hour and a half, we had gotten really good. It was nine goals to eight. I had eight because Blaise was a better Keeper than Luna was on her best day. If Malfoy got another goal, I would lose. I forced my tiring body onward, and snatched it out of Malfoy's hands yet again.

He was everywhere I turned. I couldn't make any progress. I finally managed to duck under a white clad arm and dashed toward Blaise. We'd all discarded our cloaks by this point, and I tried to ignore his muscled frame.

I successfully got the Quaffle past Blaise. Nine to nine. The last vital shot. As much as I hated to admit it, Malfoy was a formidable opponent. He feinted, he dodged, and he was light and speedy, even with his tall frame.

I'd just barely missed the Quaffle, and I needed a strategy to get it out of Malfoy's hands. I decided to try a daring move that allowed me to surprise him, but at great personal peril. It involved getting as close to Luna as possible and then intercepting the Quaffle. The problem with this plan was that the ball was heavy and, more often then not, it ended up hitting the Chaser who attempted it and knocking them off their broom, because it was at such a close range and so near other players. Keepers and Seekers trained for that kind of range with a Quaffle or a snitch, which were both very fast.

Malfoy flew towards me, and I didn't notice that he'd thrown the Quaffle until it was too late. I felt immense pain, and then…nothing.


	4. From Injuries to Apparitions

AN: Bit of a short chapter...REVIEW and tell me whether or not you liked this chapter..if you guys don't like it, it's coming down.

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I woke up in the hospital wing. Luna's fuzzy face swam into view, and it was riddled with sympathy and worry. She smiled at me.

Besides her, Blaise and Malfoy stood, looking out of place. Blaise's expression was something akin to concern. He smiled when he realized I was awake, and nudged his companion.

Malfoy looked over at me and nodded curtly. I think that I was the only one who noticed that his jaw tensed when he looked at me, or that his grey eyes got darker, deepening into pools of mercury. I couldn't determine whether he was angry or concerned.

He had really become quite handsome, with a long, lean, muscular frame and a less-pointed, strong jawline. His hair was the same bleached blonde, almost white color that it had always been, and his big grey eyes were framed by elongated, dark eyelashes. His white Oxford was slightly rumpled from being outside, and his tie was crooked. Black pants outlined his legs, slackly, elegantly, and his robe was held in one alabaster, long-fingered, hand.

"How long was I out?" I croaked.

"Not long," Luna assured me. "The Quaffle hit the back of your head, and you fell off of your broom. Luckily, Draco caught you before you hit the ground."

"Oh," I said, closing my eyes. "How-how did my broom fare?"

"I got it," Blaise said.

"Thanks," I said.

I heard rapid footfalls approaching me. I opened my eyes.

"Madame Pomfrey," I said, "will I be well enough for Quidditch tryouts?"

She sniffed, "well enough to injure yourself again, you mean? Yes, I'm releasing you in the morning. Drink this."

I eyed the purple liquid inside the vial. "What is it?" I asked warily.

"It's for the bruising on your head. It would have been much worse if you'd actually hit the ground."

She handed me the potion, which I unstoppered and quickly swallowed.

It was the bitterest potion I'd ever had to take, but a nice, warm, fuzzy feeling encompassed me briefly, and I felt my scalp tingle.

"Thank you," I said briefly.

She nodded, "but your friends have to leave at nine thirty on the dot, not one moment longer." And she left us.

I was surprised at this, because the nurse usually kicked everyone out so that the patient could 'rest'. My injuries, I concluded, must not have been that bad.

I sipped at the water lying on my bedside table. "Where's Malfoy?" I asked.

Luna bit her lip, an uncharacteristic move for her. "He left."

"For what?" I asked. Why did I care?

"He probably went to bed," said Blaise.

I lay back down.

"Speaking of which," Luna looked at me with apprehensive eyes, "we should probably get to bed too."

"Of course," I tried to ignore the slight feeling of betrayal. "You have classes and homework and stuff."

Luna smirked at me as if she knew something that I didn't, and they left.

I began to drift to the point of semi-consciousness. I dreamed little vignette-like dreams that made no sense. They all had the same thing in common though-they all featured Draco Malfoy.

I was on the Quidditch pitch, flying in some new formations that I'd learnt. Suddenly, I felt myself slip off my broom, dropping to the ground with a silent scream of terror…when Draco Malfoy swooped down on a bright green dragon to catch me. He held me in his arms, his face lowering to meet my own…

I jerked awake, looking around the room wildly, my heart hammering in my chest, my eyes wild. And there in front of me sat Draco Malfoy.

I stared at him. Was he real? Was he an apparition here to torment me?

He chuckled, actually chuckled, before speaking. "Yes, Weaselette, I'm real."

I blushed furiously, jerking my eyes away from him. "What are you doing here?" I blurted out.

He shifted his stance, arms crossed. "Luna said that you needed to talk to me."

"Um…okay," I said, equally uneasily. "Um…thank you for saving me and um…not waking me up on Monday."

He looked down at me coldly. "So you can say it when I'm the only one in the room, but not when other people are there?"

I turned red. "That's not-"

"Blaise gets thanked, oh yes, because he saved your broom! You have absolutely no problem saying thank-you to him! And Pansy can't know who you're going to ball with, oh no," he continues icily, sparks in his eyes, "it's not like she's not going to find out on Saturday. No, you needed to bring up Cedric fricking Diggory to avoid the question! Heaven forbid the little Gryffindor princess has to go to the Ball with me, with 96 percent compatibility! Maybe you were right; you sure are the one who suffers!"

He looked at me once more, as if disgusted, before sweeping out of the room.

I sat there, frozen, his words replaying over and over in my head.

"You sure are the one who suffers!"

"It's not like she's not going to find out on Saturday."

"You needed to bring up Cedric fricking Diggory to avoid the question!"

Without thinking, I threw back the white sheets and tore after him, not bothering to pull on my shoes.

I hurried down the stairs, just barely able to see his shadow. I peered around a corner to see him, still angrily walking, cheeks tinged with a faint pink color, footfalls heavy and loud. I ran towards him, his name on my lips.

"Draco!" I called, stocking clad feet slipping on the marble floor as I neared him. I lost my footing, and he grabbed me with rough hands before I could hit the floor.

I looked up at him beseechingly. His eyes once again reflected pools of dark silver, deep and angry. He looked down at me coldly.

I gazed up into his eyes, his hands still on my arms. Weak-kneed, I whispered his name. "Draco."

"What?" he asked sharply, even as the acidity in his voice evaporated.

"I'm sorry."

His grip on my arms slackened. "I'm sure you are."

I looked at him, my eyes big and pleading, and my bottom lip in a pout. "I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry, Draco."

He looks away from me, at the empty hallway.

He's ignoring me, and I don't like it. I'm standing here pouring out my apologies to a _Malfoy _and he's ignoring me.

I pull out of his loose grip, arms crossed across my chest. "Draco!"

His head snapped back to me.

Our eyes lock.

He swallows, and I can see his Adam's apple bob.

"It's late," he eventually says, "You should get back before Pomfrey sends out a search party."

I nod, still looking at him.

And just like in my dream, he bends down, pale pink lips just barely brushing mine.

My eyes close, as I stand up on my tiptoes to deepen the kiss when he pulled away, smirking down at me.

"Go, Weaselette, it's late."

And I fled.


	5. Irate Brothers and Homework

Author's Note: Hello my dear readers! I'm sorry for the slow update, but I've had writers block and I'm learning chinese, and what self-respecting Chinese person can't speak chinese? So, my mum's been helping me...but enough of my talking, let's get to the story! Remember, REVIEW! Any ideas would also be gladly appreciated. This chapter's nice and long to make up for Chapter 4. Happy Fourth of July to ye old Americans! WhooHoo! Review!

* * *

The next morning, I woke up early. Madame Pomfrey, after an initial inspection of my now laceration-free head, let me go.

I practically flew up to Gryffindor Tower, and almost ran into Ron, just as he was coming out of the portrait hole.

"Ginny," he steadies me. "Where have you been?"

I sighed. "I got hit by a stray Quaffle and Madame Pomfrey made me stay overnight in the hospital wing."

Ron's face colored predictably. "Who did it?"

I hesitated. "It was an accident, Ron."

"Who did it?" he yells.

"Draco Malfoy," I mumble pathetically. I didn't dare to put the blame on someone else when Ron was like this. At least I knew that Draco could hold his own against my agitated older brother.

"That bast-"

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, climbing out of the portrait hole. "I thought that you were going to breakfast, Ron."

"Malfoy hit her in the head with a Quaffle!"

"It was an accident, Hermione!"

The older girl shook her bushy brown curls and sighed. "I'll deal with him," she whispered to me.

"Thanks," I whispered back, climbing through the portrait hole while Hermione distracted my brother.

After I'd taken a shower and changed into fresh clothes, I went down to breakfast, determined to find Luna.

She had clearly been waiting for me to arrive. She waved at me quickly, and I went to go and sit by her.

"Well?" she asked.

"Well what?" I answered irritably. She had sent Draco back, and we'd fought the whole time, except for when he'd kissed me.

Draco Malfoy had kissed me, and it had been wonderful and frustrating and passionate and nice, all at the same time. The kiss had been so short that it might as well hadn't happened.

Now I was confused. I couldn't go back to calling him Malfoy, not after this, and not when I didn't hate him.

He was also notorious for being a player. How did I know whether he actually liked me? Was I just another notch in his belt?

What would my brother say on Saturday? What would I do when he found out? What would Ron try to do to Draco?

I shook my head to clear it. Luna was talking.

"What'd you say, Luna?"

"I asked what happened!" she exclaimed impatiently, ever the matchmaker.

"He told me that you had sent him," I glared at her and she beamed, "and then we fought. He walked out, I followed him, and then," I lowered my voice, "he kissed me."

"Merlin's beard, he what?" Luna yelled.

"For heaven's sake, keep your voice down, Luna!"

"Oh, I knew that he liked you!" said Luna. "See, you are totally compatible."

The mail arrived then, and I pocketed my letter from Anonymous to read later.

"I don't know, Luna," I said worriedly, "his reputation…"

"Has been clean from the beginning of the year."

"We've been here for three days!"

"Exactly," she smirked at me.

"I can't call him Malfoy anymore," I said dejectedly.

"No, you can't. I always thought it was stupid of you to do that."

"Luna! But what will Ron say?"

"You know your brother, Ginny. He just has a bad temper. He'll get over it."

I groaned. "Luna Lovegood! What am I going to do? I'm doomed!"

She frowned at my dramatics. She spoke in her no-nonsense voice, clearly tired of my pessimism. "Genevieve Weasley! You are being ridiculous! You are not doomed. What you are going to do is find an absolutely fabulous dress that will make everyone, especially your date, stare."

"He's not my date," I said stubbornly. "He's just the person that I have to go with for the Ball."

"Date," Luna said firmly.

"But-"

"No buts!" she said. "We're finding dresses right after classes. No ifs, buts or Quidditch about it, we are doing it!"

"Fine," I said. "But if this all goes terribly wrong, I'm blaming you."

When I looked up at Draco, he winked at me, and I blushed beet red before walking away, nose in the air.

As usual, I wrote my letters during History of Magic.

Dearest Genevieve,

I never thought that I'd ever say this, but can't wait for the Ball. I've been paired with a lovely girl. She's stubborn and sarcastic, but she's sweet. She plays Quidditch too! Hopefully she likes me…until we read again,

With all due respect,

Oblivious

I smiled happily. I wondered who the girl he'd gotten was. She seemed really nice, and he sounded like he already adored her.

Dear Anonymous.

I'm so happy for you both! I'm sure she'll like you. My best friend Luna is helping me find a dress this afternoon. Hopefully it'll get here in time for her to alter it!

I'm a little more anxious about my date. He's a Slytherin, and you'll see who he is at the Ball. Hopefully, it will go okay.

I'll be the one in the dress robes,

Genevieve Weasley

I managed to get my letter sent after class, even if it meant arriving a little breathlessly to Transfiguration class.

The whole school was abuzz about the ball. The teachers were having a rough time keeping anyone's attention, including mine. I spent the whole hour in Transfiguration thinking about what color my robes would be. What would both Draco and I like?

I shook myself out of it. Since when had I cared what he liked? Never.

The instant I walked out of Advanced Charms, Luna had me by the arm and was dragging me toward the Room of Requirement.

The room had attired itself for the occasion. It was small, with two comfortable armchairs and a small circular table in front of a blazing fire. On the table sat little delicacies, two bottles of Butterbeer and numerous magazines featuring dress robes.

We sat down immediately to browse.

Halfway into my third magazine and getting more frustrated by the moment, Luna said my name.

"Ginny," she said. "What do you think of this one?"

She showed me a picture of a calf-length, light green dress. The dress was made of a light, almost see-through fabric, and it had ruched, capped sleeves. The bodice was squared, and had a tiny sunflower brooch on it. It would fit Luna's personality perfectly.

"I think that you should get that one," I said.

"I think I will," she said, "and besides, it matches Harry's eyes."

She filled out the form and folded it neatly, setting it on the table.

I picked up a piece of Belgium chocolate. "Luna," I moaned. "I can't find anything!"

"Nonsense," she said. "You've barely looked!"

An hour later, I addressed her wearily. "Reckon we've looked enough?"

"We'll find something, Gin," she said determinedly, even though it was clear that she was as frustrated as I was. "But for now, let's go have some dinner."

We walked out of the room, and I almost ran into Draco yet again.

I immediately flushed red from the close proximity, and backed up three steps.

"Dr-Draco," I stuttered out.

"Weaselette," he said, a smile playing on his lips. "What are you up to?"

"We were trying to find something for Gin to wear," Luna said.

"Any luck?" he asked.

I shook my head no.

"Well," he said, "my mum, who can find out about anything, knows that you're my date, Weaselette."

I gulped at his terminology while Luna smirked. "She knows about me?" I squeaked.

"Yes, and she wants you to wear her old mask. She had a set from when she went to balls with my father."

I remembered Lucius Malfoy's face and shuddered. "What are they?" I asked as calmly as I could.

He produced two chiseled masks in white boxes from his bag. "Winter."

It was true that they looked like winter. Draco's mask was definitely the plainer of the two, and was plain white, obviously only meant to cover half his face. It had a glossy sheen to it, like ice.

Mine was fancier. It was also white, but white enough to look blue, and it covered half my face, but it sparkled, and the sides were cut in zigzagged lines. There were diamond accents on the sides and had a shine to it.

I picked it up gingerly. "Um…thank you for letting me borrow it. Tell your mum that I'll be careful."

"You're welcome, Weaselette," he smirked. He handed me the box. "It should make finding your dress easier."

I swallowed. "Thanks."

He took a step forward. "I'll see you around, Weaselette." He brushes his lips against my cheek ever so gently and walks away, while I stand there like an idiot, hand still held up against my cheek.

"Don't you start," I warned Luna, who looked at me smugly. We went down to have dinner, where Luna told Harry about her dress. I was pleased to note how happy they looked together.

After dinner, we grabbed our homework and made our way back up to the Room of Requirement. To my surprise, Draco fell into step beside me.

"My mum also sent me some magazines for you to look through. I thought I'd help you find a dress, and then you could help me with my Herbology homework, Weaselette, since McGonagall advanced you."

"How did you know-"

He laughed. "Weaselette, the whole school knows that you give Granger a run for her money."

"Oh."

We reached the Room of Requirement then. We all walked into another variation of the room.

There were a couple of couches facing each other, with a mahogany table in the middle. The table had three candles on it, all lit, and tea for three people already set out.

I stretched out on a couch, and Draco sat beside me.

Luna claimed the other couch, and began working on her homework, claiming that Draco's help would be enough.

Draco handed me a magazine, and I began browsing through it. Finally, I saw the one I felt that I was meant to own.

It was white, and the spaghetti straps were covered by icy blue, sparkly flowers, enchanted never to wither. The bodice was made entirely of perfect, pale blue aquamarines, and transitioned smoothly back to the silky white fabric just past the bust. The waist cinched in tightly, making it the skirt flare out. The skirt was also white, and the calf-length front cut away to a longer, floor length back in a v-shape. It revealed a pale blue underskirt when the model in the picture twirled.

The only thing that I was slightly uneasy about was the large cutout on the back. It stopped just above the tailbone and was patterned with large criss-crosses of aquamarines that did little to alleviate the feeling of nakedness. Nevertheless, I really liked the fact that the aquamarines sparkled so much.

I quickly filled out the order form. "Luna, I'm going to the Owlery!"

She looked up at my elated expression. Her mouth opened in disbelief. "You actually found a dress?"

"Told you the mask would help," Draco quipped, setting aside another magazine. "I'll come with you; I have post to send."

"Ginny, would you be a dear and take my form too?" Luna asked.

"Of course, Luna, we'll be right back!" I called back, already halfway to the door. "Come on, Draco! Let's go! Hurry!"

"Patience, grasshopper," he said, standing up and shaking his head at me.

We walk up to the Owlery. I am grinning widely and trying not to skip in happiness, while Draco walks slowly enough to irritate me.

I sigh. "Draco, are you just trying to ruin my exceptionally good mood?"

"How'd you guess?"

"By the smirk that you always have on your face when you know that you're being exasperating."

"There's no smirk on my face," he denies instantaneously, "I'm just not used to you being this…happy. It's abnormal."

"Don't get used to it."

"Of course not, Weaselette."

We finally reach the Owlery a few minutes later, and Draco disappears to find Incentius.

I give Everdeene an owl treat whilst tying both order forms to her leg. She hoots in thanks after she swallows the treat, and flies off into the cloudy night.

I try to wait patiently for Draco, but I end up failing the task that I'd assigned to myself. "Draco," I called impatiently, "aren't you ready yet?"

"No, go back to the Room of Requirement," he calls back, "I'll be there in a minute."

I shrug, beginning to make my way back.

Draco catches up with me by the time we're at the door.

"Incentius was being difficult," he explained.

Luna stood up when we got there. She yawned. "I finally finished Snape's essay."

"I still have to do it," I sighed. "I took the whole day to find my dress, and I haven't even started on my homework."

"Well," Luna said with a devilish gleam in her eyes, "it's almost curfew, and since you guys aren't doing stuff for the ball…"

"We have to get up to bed," I groaned. "And my homework will be late."

"You could stay overnight in here," Luna said. "After all, you both still have homework. And Draco, you said that Gin needed to help you with Herbology."

"Which is also due tomorrow," he said.

"It's better than Filch catching us," I said, sitting down on the couch, "and getting detention."

"Right you are," Luna said, "I'm going to bed, and you should probably grab some pajamas, and make it look like you're in your bed, at least. I'll walk with you a ways, Ginny."

"It's my NEWT year," said Draco snootily, "and I am not failing Herbology because I was helping you look for dresses."

"Fine, fine," I said. "I'll stay overnight."

Luna and I parted halfway to our dormitories, and I went up to mine.

"Hippogriff," I said to the Fat Lady.

"Indeed, my dear," she said, and swung open to admit me.

The common room was full of older students, most of who were working on homework. Harry, Ron and Hermione were stretched out on armchairs in front of the fireplace. Hermione was scribbling away at a three-foot long roll of parchment, while the boys were talking animatedly about Quidditch, the essays in front of them long since abandoned. Every so often, Hermione would open her mouth in her usual bossy way, but then close it, looking at them and shaking her head.

I made my way up to my dormitory and found my toiletry bag and my cutest pair of pajamas, a silky, navy blue skirt and a capped sleeved, fitted, button down black top.

I crept quietly out of the common room, my overnight bag shrunk to fit my robe pockets.

Hermione nodded to me as I walked out, clearly convinced that I'd be coming back. I'd given her every reason to believe that I was.

Draco was already there when I arrived, books in his hands. The room had once again changed, and this time it was about the size of my dormitory, with two four-posters on either side of the room. In one corner was a door that probably led to a bathroom. There was a small bookcase, roaring fire, and a large table with a fresh pot of tea and crumpets lying out. My book bag sat on one of the armchairs in front of the fire.

He was already wearing his pajamas, a set of green silk pants and a shirt that outlined his chest. I tore my eyes away when I saw him smirking at me, making me blush red. I pulled off my heavy black robe and tie, and sat down, ready to start working.

Draco sat beside me, toting plain parchment, a self-writing quill, and a bottle of color-changing ink.

"What are you working on?" I asked.

"I'm supposed to decide whether or not fireweed is more dangerous than a mandrake," he said.

"Well, it depends which stage the mandrake is at," I began, and proceeded to explain until he'd gotten sufficient notes to begin writing his essay.

"Thanks," he said when we finished an hour later.

"No problem," I said, pulling out my History of Magic homework.

Two hours later, Draco had finished his homework and was in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. Meanwhile, I was still working on Snape's essay about the significance of each ingredient and the exact processes used in the luck potion known as Felix Felicis.

I yawned, quill hovering over the parchment, before turning the pages of my Potions book again.

"You still aren't done?" he came up from behind me, and leaned down to speak in my ear.

I jumped away, my cheeks reddening. "I've just barely started," I said.

"Weaselette, it's one in the morning," he said.

"I've got to get this done," I replied stubbornly, even as my eyelids drooped and I swayed in my chair.

"Do it in the morning," he insisted.

"There's too much pr-pressure to get it done in time for class," I yawned.

"Fine then," he sighed, "I guess that I have to sacrifice my beauty sleep and help you, Weaselette, before you fall asleep trying to get this done."

"Beauty sleep..." I scoffed hazily.

We finished sometime around two a.m., and I hobbled off to the bathroom for a shower.

When I came out in my pajamas, Draco was sitting in front of the fire, staring into the flames.

Tired as I was, I slumped down next to him. "Draco," I prodded him in the side, "you have to get some sleep."

"Weaselette," he said, "are you really that ashamed of me?"

I looked at him through bleary eyes, "what do you mean, Draco?"

"To have me…one of…" he seemed to choke on the words.

I looked into the fiery red coils of heat that sat beside us. "Don't speak of it, Draco."

"Are you though?"

I was surprised that he was opening up to me, and his voice was raw and real. "I was," I spoke softly, "but now I'm not." Then, tentatively, I brushed my lips along his smooth jaw.

He shivered, and I pulled away, standing up. "Now, let's go to bed, Draco, it's really late."

He stood up beside me. "You're right, Weaselette. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Draco."


	6. You Need Me

Short little filler chapter. Sorry I've had writers block all week. Tell me what you think?

* * *

I woke up the next morning in a highly uncomfortable position: on the stone floor. Groaning, I sat up and took in my once again different surroundings.

The fireplace was gone, and everything looked the same, except for the table, which had breakfast placed upon it, still steaming, two places set out.

I stood up and poured myself a cup of tea. I looked over toward Draco's side of the room.

He was sprawled out on the bed, sheets strewn and tangled, long limbs hanging off the bed awkwardly; one hand brushing the floor, feet tangled in the curtains, hair messy and sticking up even worse than Harry's. He snored lightly, making me grin.

I walked over to his bed. "Draco," I said lightly, nudging his shoulder.

He turned away from me. "G'way," he muttered irritatedly, "sleeping."

"Draco," I persisted. "We have classes in a half hour. Get up."

"Go away, Weaselette, I'm skiving off." He muttered again, burying his face into the pillow.

"You can't," I said, trying to be persuasive, "it's your N.E.W.T. year!"

The reply that I got to this was a pillow to the face.

"Hey!" I spluttered. I threw the pillow back at him. No response.

"Fine," I huffed, "suit yourself."

I went over to the table to eat breakfast. He could sleep in, but I fully intended to make it to my classes. I didn't want to have homework over the weekend, especially with the ball.

My irritation was showing, "I expected that you," I said loudly, "would at least want to do well in your classes. But, I clearly expected too much."

I wasn't expecting what happened next. He sat up, cold fury evident in his stormy grey eyes. "Guess what, Weaselette; I was up all night helping _you. _I'm tired!"

"So am I, but you still have to go to class!"

"Picking up Granger's ways, are you?" he hissed at me, "wouldn't have expected it of you."

"And why not?" I challenged, "Last I checked, she was the one who helped win the bloody war!"

"There you go again! You are always judging me! Everyone judges me! You are _exactly_ like her, and your bloody brother, and bloody Harry bloody Potter! But, no! It's always about the war, about how ashamed of me you are, how terrible I am! You know what; you are just as judgmental, bossy and unforgiving as the rest of them! I don't need you, I don't need anyone! Just leave me the bloody hell alone!"

He stood up as if to leave, and I stood as well. I wasn't letting this go.

"You know that I'm not ashamed of you, Draco," I said firmly, "I said as much last night." I stood in front of the door, effectively blocking it. He moved to step around me, and I blocked his way.

"I'm not exactly like Harry, Hermione and Ron, because I'm here right now." He regarded me coldly, trying to step around me again.

"I am not judgmental, bossy, or unforgiving. I just think that you need to go to class."

He was finally looking up at me, staring into my face as if searching for a hint of a lie.

I spoke softly. "You need me, you need someone, Draco. I am not going to leave you alone. That's what you're afraid of, and that's what you're afraid to admit. You are expecting me to be just like them, and I'm not."

I walked towards him, wrapping my arms around his tense body and laying my head on his chest, "just go to class."

I felt the thick rumble of his laugh as he relaxed. "Weaselette," he said with the old affection, "I guess I could go."

"Mmm." I boldly burrowed my head into his warm shoulder.

"I won't pay attention," he said lightly.

"That's fine," I murmured.

"I won't learn anything."

"It's okay," his arms wrapped themselves around my waist.

I looked up at him.

"Don't leave me, Ginny."

"I won't."

* * *

He used her first name! YAY! Next chapter will (hopefully) be posted soon!


	7. Dresses and Denials

This is an edit of my previous chapter! Hope it's better...

* * *

Draco's Pov:

Weirdly, crazily enough, I was satisfied to hold Ginny in my arms. She molded against me perfectly, warm and soft and perfect. Her hair curtained on my shoulder, a rich dark red that sparkled in the light. It was vibrant and wild and chaotic, just like Ginny. Her big, owl-ish brown eyes glanced up at me before she nestled back into my shoulder, delicate, little, lightly freckled hand tightening around me as she sighed in contentment.

I'd watched her over the years, going to the ball with Longbottom, dating Harry, jealousy eating away at me like a disease. I'd wondered so many times, wondered about what could have been, if only I were someone other than Draco Malfoy.

She, of course, didn't know anything about how I felt about her. I had always tried so hard to hate her, to see her as a blood-traitor Weasley with no standing, but she'd always caught my eye.

And now she had a firm hold on my heart.

Ginny's Pov:

I couldn't believe it. Draco Malfoy, sworn enemy of my family and many others, was holding me in his arms, and had evoked from me a promise to stay with him.

He'd always been the forbidden fruit. The bad boy, the wild one. The girls in my dormitory had always gossiped about him, giggled about him. He was the epitome of cruelty, of silken-voiced lies. I had never participated in these discussions, as I had been firmly resolved to like Harry or whatever guy I was dating at the time. I didn't try to like Malfoy, or find some redeeming quality in him. I had known better, known to leave the attraction be. Now though, I wasn't as smart.

I was throwing caution into the winds and I knew it. There was only so long that I could keep this from everyone. And the deadline was just two days away. There was no way that I could pretend that I didn't like Malfoy at the ball, because it wasn't in my nature to pretend. The jealousy, I was afraid, was unavoidable.

The only one who had any kind of clue how I felt for him was Luna, and I was sure that she understood much more than she let on. Maybe it was another fling, but I hoped it wasn't. For the last couple of days, his focus had been solely on me.

Reluctantly, my head swimming, I tried to pull away from him, his grip on me tightening.

"Draco," I said lightly, liltingly, "classes."

He groaned and let me go. "Fine, fine, my little lecturer."

I swatted at him, but glowed at the word 'my'.

I had it bad. Terribly, horribly squiggly-wiggly sparks-in-my-stomach bad.

I finally got out of the room about ten minutes later, ready to go to classes. Luna caught me just before Transfiguration and handed me two notes before rushing off to her own class.

Curiosity was killing me, but I knew well enough to pay attention in McGonagall's class. I needed the good grade in Transfiguration.

I finally got to History of Magic an hour later. The first note was printed on yellow parchment and printed quickly in Luna's blue-inked hand. I read its contents first.

Gin,

You weren't at breakfast! Luckily, I had Binns' class earlier (I know you're reading this during his class, some things never change, do they?) so I wrote you a letter as a substitute.

Our dresses came today! My green dress is absolutely lovely, though it was a little lighter a green than I was expecting. Harry came up to talk to me as I was opening the package, and I had to shove it under the table so that he didn't see. I got lucky, you Quidditch players have such quick reflexes, and he almost saw it! I'll have them altered by Saturday, don't worry. But, you aren't allowed to see it!

Nevertheless, I do see what you saw in him for all those years, Gin, if you don't mind my saying so. He's still a pretty ignorant guy, but ever so much better than your brother, Ron (poor Hermione!) and he's just adorable.

However, I don't think that you're disappointed in Draco. (Winks) Did you have fun last night?

Watch for those wrackspurts!

Luna

I smiled at her letter. It was obvious just how much Harry and Luna liked each other. I was glad that this ball had given them an opportunity to get together.

I hoped that my dress would turn out all right. Luna hadn't mentioned it in her letter, and I hoped that the design looked okay.

I sighed and opened the other letter, the white parchment and black ink.

Dear Genevieve,

I know that it'll turn out just fine. A person's House doesn't always determine who they are, after all.

Until we read again,

Oblivious

Reassured by this assessment, I put my worries about Draco out of my mind, for now. I answered both of the letters, and Binns assigned homework for the night, informing us in his usual dreamy monotone that there would be a short quiz tomorrow.

Finally, we were dismissed, and I went to the rest of my classes. When I got to Potions and handed Snape my essay, he looked over it briefly before proclaiming it "passable". Luckily, a 'passable' from the Professor was a lot more like an 'excellent'. I struggled to hide my beaming face as I sat down; there was no reason to let him reconsider the grade he'd given me.

While waiting for my Shrinking Potion to turn into the 'pearly translucent color' that was expected, I wrote letters to my Committee, calling a meeting after classes on Friday. It would be the last before the ball.

After classes, I went up to the Owlery to deliver my letters, ignoring Everdeene's irritated hoot as I tied the majority of the letters to the school owls' legs.

I turned to the eagle owl sternly. "You should be happy that you don't have to do it all."

She hooted again, obviously disagreeing with me. She was my owl, and here these other ingrates were, taking her work. It was just unfair, but that was an underappreciated owl's life.

I laughed and shook my head, finishing the knot on her letter. "If it makes you feel any better, Everdeene, you got the special-est letter."

She looked down at me loftily before flying away. Apparently, it didn't matter.

"Talking to birds now, Ginny?" a familiar voice asked me.

I turned to the older girl, a smile on my face. "Hey, Hermione."

"How's the ball going?" she asked, walking over to a school owl and absentmindedly tying her letter.

"Great. It's shaping up really well. One more meeting and we're finished."

"I'm glad. I saw Luna out in the East Courtyard. She told me to tell you to meet her there."

"I should probably go then," I said. "See you later, Hermione."

"Bye, Gin."

I wasn't halfway around the corner when I felt familiar hands catch me about the waist.

"Hi, Draco," I said to the figure behind me, smiling happily at my quick deduction. After all, only he could have such pale, long-fingered hands.

I felt his laugh as he pulled me to him, arms still around me. "Luna sent me after you."

"Geez," I said, shaking my head, "first Hermione, and now you. It must be important."

"Or she's just impatient, like you, Gin," he laughed again.

"She isn't my friend for nothing," I said playfully, "but I think that's its important. She's a reasonable Ravenclaw, after all. Now, come on!"

I pulled him along behind me on my quest to find Luna, despite his spluttering about it "not being dignified to be dragged around…" and stopping suddenly.

"By a Weasley?" I finished, debating whether or not to be angry at him. As he hadn't finished the thought, I cut him some slack, "yeah, tough luck, pardner. You decided to stick around. Deal with it."

"Did you just call me 'pardner'?" he asked incredulously, still being pulled by me, "with a country western accent?"

I turned around and grinned at him, "did I? I thought that was you."

We'd reached the courtyard by then and I saw Luna. She was laughing easily at something Colin Creevey had said.

I stopped suddenly, making Draco stumble into me. Luckily, his Quidditch skills kicked in and kept us from tumbling into a very undignified heap on the ground.

I was sure that my face was milk-white, and almost as pale as Draco's was.

"What's wrong, Weaselette?" he asked me teasingly, "you look like you've seen a boggart."

I couldn't tell him. I'd told him that I wasn't ashamed of him, and here I was, frozen at the thought of being seen with him.

I was a bloody hypocrite and he bloody knew it.

"Nothing," I stuttered out, smiling wobbily. "There's Luna." I pointed over to her.

"Gin." He turned me around, grey eyes looking at me concernedly, "what's wrong?"

He glanced over at Luna and Colin, discernment dawning in his eyes. "Oh," he said darkly. "I'll leave you to it, then," and he left, black robes swishing as he walked away, proud and cold and stiff.

I felt awful. Torn between running after him and keeping Luna waiting, I simply stood there, frozen.

"Ginny!" Luna called, distracting me from my inner turmoil. She jogged lightly toward me, abandoning Colin.

I looked at her, comprehension hitting me like a bludger. "Hi, Luna," I said faintly. "Erm, what's up?"

"I finished altering your dress! And it looks bloody fantastic, if I do say so myself." She beamed proudly, waiting for my response.

I tried to ignore my guilt and smile happily. "That's fantastic! May I see it?"

She grinned mischievously at me. "Nope."

I looked at her in shock. "What do you mean, no?"

"No."

I looked at her, pouting. "Why not?"

She kept on grinning, "Because I'm going to dress you for the ball."

"Why?"

"Because it'll be fun!"

I shook my head at her. "For you maybe."

She frowned at my pessimism. Shaking her pale blonde head, she changed the subject.

"What sent Draco away so quickly?"

I gulped.

Luna looked at me sympathetically. "Gin," she said, "you're going to have to tell people on Saturday anyway."

"I know," I said, "I just don't want to. And he's probably angry at me. I'm such a hypocrite. I told him that I wasn't ashamed, and here I am, afraid."

"just go find him," Luna said encouragingly. "I'll see you at dinner."

She gave me a solid push, and I began walking, zombie-like, to go and find him.

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Which is better? This one or the one I had up previously? Let me know!

Cheers!


	8. Confessions

If you read chapter 7 before it was heavily revised, I advise you heartily to go back and read it! Cheers!

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I couldn't find Draco anywhere. I'd searched nearly everywhere I suspected he might be, the kitchens, the Room of Requirement, the library, outdoors at the Quidditch pitch, and I had even lurked near the Slytherin common room.

I'd give him one thing; Draco was fantastic at not being found.

On my way back to my dorm to sulk in peace, I saw Pansy Parkinson with Millicent Bulstrode, apparently going to the Great Hall for supper.

I hesitated; Pansy was a Slytherin, and if anyone would know where Draco was, she was one of the most likely to know.

"Parkinson!" I called, quickening my pace to reach the girl.

She turned around and sneered at me. "What do you want, Weasley?"

I swallowed. "Do you know where Draco is?"

She smirked at me, "so its Draco now, is it?"

I nodded, gaze steely. "Do you know?"

"Why do you want to know?" she countered. "Something to do with the ball, hmm?"

I faltered before remembering what had happened earlier. "Well," I said boldly, "he _is_ my date."

Pansy gaped at me, mouth open like a goldfish. "You aren't serious, obviously, Weasley. Who would believe that?"

"Gullible as you are, Pansy," I said sweetly, "it's true. Moreover, I need to find him. We need to talk."

"I'll bet that he's hiding from you," she said scornfully, "and I wouldn't blame him."

I refused to back down, even as I felt my eyes fill up with tears I didn't want to shed. "Nor would I."

"Actually," I heard a voice say from behind me, a wonderful, brilliant voice, "I was hiding from _you_, Parkinson."

I spun around so quickly that I almost lost my balance. "Draco!"

Pansy looked like she'd eaten a lemon. "Is she bothering you, Drakie?" she asked through gritted teeth.

He looked at her levelly, putting his arm around my waist and drawing me to him. "I'm used to it," he said, winking at me. "Hey, pardner."

I rolled my eyes, "so now it's okay to use that phony accent?"

"You did it first!" he pouted, lower lip jutting out adorably.

I laughed and pecked him on the cheek. "I'm sorry," I whispered in his ear.

I heard a huff of disgust before Pansy stalked away, hauling Millicent behind her.

"How much did you hear?" I asked, biting my lip as he pulled me into an empty corridor.

"Enough." He pulled me down with him and we sat on the cold stone.

"I really am sorry," I said, snuggling against him.

"So am I," he said, ducking his head, making blonde strands fall into his eyes. "I should have known to give you some time."

We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, my head in his lap as he stroked my hair in the most relaxing way humanly possible. It was making me sleepy.

"Draco?" I asked languidly, eyes fluttering.

"Gin?" he removed his hand from my hair, instead tracing delicate circles over my hands, which were clasped tightly in my own lap.

Gently, he loosened my tense fingers, and I sighed in utter contentment.

Before I could lose my train of thought, I asked him. "Where were you the whole time?"

He chuckled softly. "In my dorm, behaving like a right utter prat. Blaise finally got sick of it and locked me out, whereupon I found you talking to Pansy in the entrance hall."

"You aren't a prat," I mumbled, "only half of the time." Fuzziness clouded my eyes. Lack of sleep had rendered me incoherent.

"Half the time indeed." He smiled softly at me, eyes a soft, sterling silver grey. "What were you up to with Luna?"

I yawned, frowning as I tried to remember. "She finished my dress," I said, "and then she made me go and look for you so I could say I was sorry."

"How does it look?" he asked curiously.

"I don't know," I pouted, "she wouldn't let me see it. And she's not going to let me have it until Saturday."

His free hand came up and traced my lips, my eyes, my cheeks. "How unfair," a hint of a smirk on his face. "But you have the mask."

"Y-Yeah," I replied. My eyes closed and I yawned before I fell into a blackened oblivion.

I shifted uncomfortably, as the lap I was lying on was shaking. I opened my eyes sleepily, to see Draco glaring at someone, white-hot anger in his mercury grey eyes.

I touched his tensed jaw with my hand, looking at him inquisitively.

"OI! WHAT ARE YOU DOING, GENEVIEVE MOLLY WEASLEY?" I heard Ron's voice, riddled with anger.

I shot up like a muggle rocket and glared at Ron, who was flanked by Hermione and Harry, both of whom were wearing looks of shock on their faces.

Ron lunged toward me, hauling me away from Draco.

I stumbled and quickly regained my balance. I didn't have the time to fall down now.

"WELL, I _WAS_ SLEEPING!" I shot back angrily. I wrenched my arm back, holding it where I could see fingerprints. Ron's fingerprints.

He moved as if to grab me again.

"STOP!" Hermione's voice shot out. She avoided my gaze, but defied Ron. "You've bruised her arm. Leave her be."

Harry's authoritative voice broke the sudden quiet. "What's going on here, Ginny?"

I focused on the ground as I spoke. "It all started with the ball. Draco," Ron's jaw clenched, but he remained silent, "was paired with me at a 96%, which was higher than any other pair. He also saved me when I was executing a particularly difficult Quidditch maneuver and fell. And, well," I looked straight into Ron's eyes, "I don't care that he's a Malfoy because he's been nothing but a gentlemen. A-And," I took another deep breath, "I fancy him."

Ron looked at me in shock. "What sort of spell has that bastard got you under?" he yelled loudly.

"No spell, nothing," I said quietly.

"You bloody twat!" he shouted again before launching himself at Malfoy's still form.

I watched in silent horror while they grappled. Ron landed multiple punches first, but slowly began to find himself at a disadvantage against Draco. I heard a suspicious snapping sound as he succeeded in pinning Ron to the ground and. Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it at Ron's throat, glaring angrily, before releasing him and stepping back.

Ron's robes were torn and blood was leaking from his puffy lip. He looked at me and then at Draco, as if unable to comprehend what was happening. "You just wait until I owl Mum," he snarled at me before stalking away, holding the remnants of his snapped wand.

Harry and Hermione quickly followed him out, not looking at me.

I stood there, shaking, finally coming to myself and flinging my limp body into Draco's arms and sobbing uncharacteristically.

He held me tightly, peppering my wet face with kisses, muttering sweet nothings in my ear.

"Shh, Gin, its okay….it's all right….I'm sorry….it's okay…."

Eventually, I calmed down enough to be rightfully indignant.

I gazed up at him, "I'm so sorry, Draco."

"It's fine; he's needed that reality check since first year." He smiled at me reassuringly.

"You're hurt!" I fingered his eye, which was beginning to swell. "You need to go to the hospital wing."

"So do you," he said, his jaw clenching at the sight of my arm, which had bruises in the shape of fingerprints.

"If he wasn't your brother, he wouldn't be conscious right now," Draco said angrily.

"I know," I said soothingly. "Now let's go, that eye looks painful."

Draco picked up my messenger bag, even as I protested, eying his bruised body with concern. He rolled his eyes at me and we trudged to the hospital wing.

Madame Pomfrey bustled over to us as soon as we opened the door.

"Merlin!" she exclaimed fretfully, "Mr. Malfoy, what have you been up to?" she looked at him suspiciously, completely ignoring me.

"There he is!" I heard my brother yelling, "That evil git has been corrupting my sister!"

Pomfrey turned to me, seeming to realize that I was there. "Contain yourself, Mr. Weasley; shouting will not be tolerated in _my _infirmary!"

He settled back onto his bed, huffing indignantly, Harry and Hermione speaking to him quietly.

"Miss Weasley, is there anything that you require?" Pomfrey asked me while pulling Draco over to another bed, far away from Ron. She had him shrug off his robe and roll up the sleeves of his white oxford. She began pulling vials out of a large cabinet.

I took care to speak loudly and precisely. "Just some _bruises _that I have on my _arm_."

I heard a small gulp. I smirked, satisfied, as I sat at Draco's bedside, clasping his hand in mine.

He shook his head and smiled at me. "You're becoming more and more like a Slytherin, Gin."

Pomfrey's eyes darted curiously between the two of us, and she smiled slightly as she handed Draco a small bottle filled with a blue-black liquid. "Drink that, Mr. Malfoy."

He swallowed it in one go, grimacing at the taste.

"Is there anything else, Mr. Malfoy?" Madame Pomfrey asked.

"Not me," he said, "Gin needs something, though."

I looked up, shocked that he would call attention to me before himself. I frowned at him, a silent rebuke to a Harry-esque move.

She smiled at me, her features relaxing. Pomfrey was well known as a hopeless romantic, despite her stern demeanor.

"Drink this, Miss Weasley." She handed me another vial. Similar to Draco's, but even smaller.

I did, the bitterness lacing through my mouth and trickling down my throat, making me cough violently. Draco handed me his water glass.

"Thanks," I wheezed out, taking a small, steadying sip.

"If there isn't anything else," Madame Pomfrey looked at squarely at the both of us, "then you may go. Miss Weasley, I'm sure that you'd be interested to know that your brother is staying for a couple hours, just for observation."

"Yes, Madame Pomfrey," I said, picking up my book bag and following Draco out. "Thank you."

"It's a little late," said Draco, "let's just go and get something to eat from the kitchens."

My stomach rumbled in agreement. I blushed while Draco smirked at me, and said, "That'll be fine."

"I need to send my mum a letter, though," I paused, "and tell her about…us…before Ron does."

"Of course," he said, looking slightly worried. "Will she be okay with it?"

I turned to him as we walked. "I don't know, but she has always respected my choices, unlike Ron. I'm sure that she'll love you once she meets you."

"And the rest of your brothers?"

"Worried, my little ferret?" I teased, grinning.

"A little bit," he admited, "all in all, it's six to one, which is hardly an ideal ratio."

"Expect lots of death threats from them," I said, "or you can just go and find Pansy. If you can't handle it, I mean."

He looked at me incredulously. "Is that a challenge, little Weaselette?"

"It is."

"I do love a good challenge," he stepped a little closer to me, making me pause, "if there's an exceptional reward. You see, I don't plan on wasting my time if there isn't anything to be gained from it."

I looked up at him. "Is that right?"

"Inde-" he stopped talking as I stepped on his toes, elevating my own height to meet him, arms around his neck.

Slowly, teasingly, I brought my lips to his, just barely brushing them, before stepping back and grinning lazily. "Is that enough of a reward?"

He swallowed, looking at me with darkened eyes. "It'll do for now."

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	9. Owling for the Cavalry!

**Sorry for the slow update...I hope that this (filler) chapter makes up for it. :) Please tell me what you think!**

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"Good," I smirked, "because that's all I'm offering."

I laughed at his expression, and walked ahead, pausing when I realized that he wasn't following me.

"Well, come on!" I turned back, "I'm hungry!"

I heard him muttering and it sounds suspiciously like, "I'm not surprised," but I ignore it. He got lucky.

We get to the kitchens quickly, and once again, I decided to indulge the house elves and let them choose our dinner. This time, though, I was smart enough to lay out a condition: a three-plate limit for each course.

We were settling into a large treacle tart when Draco brought up Quidditch.

"Your tryout is Monday afternoon, right, Gin?"

"Yep," I tried to settle the intense fluttery feeling in my stomach by taking another bite of the sweet tart. "When's yours?"

"The same."

"Are you nervous?"

He glanced up and me and shrugged. "I suppose, a little bit. There's no point in playing if you're too self confident to be nervous. That means that the competition isn't up to par." He paused, spooning some of the vanilla ice cream from the carton onto his steaming pastry. "What about you?"

"I don't know," I said, "I practiced a lot with Harry and Ron over the summer holidays."

His jaw clenches, but he answers cordially enough. "You should be fine, Gin. I've played with you."

"You mean the _one time_ that I fell of my broomstick? What are you going on about? Did someone spike your pumpkin juice?" I snatch the glass in front of him and bring it to my nose.

He steals it back, the orange liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the goblet. "It was _because_ I was there. Remember, you still despised me at that point. You were just getting too competitive and weren't think straight. Just keep your head in the game and you'll be fine. Don't do anything too fancy or complicated. You're a Quidditch player, not an acrobat."

"What's an ack-ro-bot?"

He smiled at my atrocious pronunciation. "An acrobat is a muggle who does cartwheels and flips and other things of the like."

"Oh," I said, not really understanding. "I hope I get chaser, it's such a popular position."

"You'll do fine, like I said. How about we meet in here afterwards, right around dinnertime? We'll do something fun."

"Like what?"

"It's a surprise."

I pouted. "First Luna and now you."

"Or we could just skip the surprise."

I reached across the table and slapped at his arm.

"Ow!" he looked at me sulkily.

"That's for keeping everything from me!"

"I'm still not telling you," he smirked.

"Fine." I crossed my arms across my chest and glared at him.

He ignored me, nonchalantly spooning another generous helping of dessert onto his plate. Pig.

I gave up after awhile, finishing my tart grumpily and standing up. "Are you done?"

"Yeah," he said, abandoning his pastry. "Let's go to the Room of Requirement so you can write your letter."

I groaned, but followed him out the door nonetheless.

We walked in silence. Finally, Draco sighed and turned to me. "Gin, I know that you don't like when people keep things from you, but indulge me, just this once?"

I considered, tilting my head to the side and staring at him. "Fine," I eventually said. "I suppose. But just this once, mind you!"

He smiles and wraps his arm around my waist, confidently. I knew that he knew he'd get away with it. He always did, manipulative Slytherin that he was.

And loyal Gryffindor that I was, I forgave him. After all, he'd been trying to be nice in the first place. I leaned my head against his shoulder, expelling a great gust of air from my lungs in a measly little sigh.

He grins, tightening his arm possessively even though it was past curfew and there was no one in the hallway but us. Even so, I enjoyed the warm pressure of his hand around me.

We finally reached the Room of Requirement a few minutes later. Draco handed me my bag, and I pulled out my parchment roll, ink, and quill.

Sitting down on a royal blue davenport, I begin writing:

Dear Mum and Dad,

I don't know how to put this:

I scribbled it out, starting again as Draco thumbed through the books on a nearby shelf.

Dear Mum and Dad,

How are you all? I know that I haven't written in a while…

Scrapped.

Dear Mum and Dad,

I know that it's a little early for me to send a letter home, and that's its very late at night and that I don't usually send post until Sunday, but it's urgent.

I've had a good week so far, Luna and I are part of the ball committee, some rubbish about Inter-House relations…I'm head of the whole thing and it's on Saturday night. Wish me luck!

Quidditch tryouts are on Monday. Chaser's a popular position to play, so hopefully I make it! I took a nasty fall with a new maneuver, but Madame Pomfrey fixed me up, so no harm done.

About the urgency…I'm sure that Ron's already sent you a letter full of insane blathering and no real understanding, so I'll attempt to make you see my side.

Draco Malfoy, ferret extraordinaire, was on my committee. He's head boy and, as you are already fully aware of, son of the former death eaters Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy.

Anyhow, we were planning the pairs for the dance. For an interesting twist, we decided (as a committee) to use compatibility factors as the decision, rather than having it be an asking between the students. We also decided to do it by House, so that, say, two Hufflepuffs couldn't be paired together.

So, Draco and I were doing the pairs, (which Blaise Zabini was supposed to help with) and we used a spell that we found in the library to do it. Surely enough, the expected happened: Luna and Harry (I am so happy for them! They do make a much better pair than Harry and I, honestly) and Ron and Hermione were paired. Naturally, I'm sure that you're curious about Ron and Hermione's, as they are in the same House. They were resorted and found that Hermione was also quite compatible with a Ravenclaw named Grant Frères, a really nice boy in seventh year. (But, I'm sure that it won't change Hermione's feelings for Ron, no matter how much of a git he was being about it.)

However, that's beside the point. On the _first_ try, mind you, I was matched with Draco at a 96%, the highest of any compatibility factor in the entire school. In addition, I know that it wasn't a fluke, because I'm sitting in the Room of Requirement with him right now, whilst writing this to you. He's reading a book, in case you care, not hovering over my shoulder or doing something equally creepy.

Naturally, at this point we still hated one another bitterly. However, as we spent more time together, there was this…this spark. He really does like me, even more than I like him, maybe. Remember how I mentioned going to see Madame Pomfrey for some injuries? I'd fallen off my broom, and he'd caught me.

I was planning to let everyone know the night of the ball. You know how I am, I like being completely honest with people. It's the Weasley way, after all. While the theme is masquerade, everyone would know that it was Draco and I anyway. We're both very easy to spot, even though it's for different reasons. I hope that, with time, that will change, as he's truly a better man than he was before.

Speaking of the masquerade and the fact that I don't want to leave a bit of it out, Mrs. Malfoy sent _me_ a beautiful mask to wear. She knows who I am, and seems to have changed as well. I always did think her a beautiful woman, (almost as pretty as you, Mum) even with the bitter hatred I had for them all. Don't worry, I won't be nearly as quick to forgive Mr. Malfoy, but Draco seems to truly love his mother. She even sent me some magazines to find my dress. Luna and I had spent eons trying to find one for me. The dress I found is white, and I really like it. Luna altered it for me, but I'm not allowed to see it until Saturday. Her dress is green, a little lighter than Harry's eyes. I'll be sure to send you pictures. Lots of them.

So, Draco and I were sitting in a corridor, not snogging, thanks for your confidence, Mum. We'd stayed up later because of homework. I was working on Snape's dreadful essay on Felix Felicis. Call me crazy, but I almost wish that Voldemort had killed him…but back to the point. We were in a corridor and I fell asleep. You know me; I can't do without my full eight hours. When I woke up, Ron was going completely mental. Draco was the perfect gentleman until Ron dragged me up by my arm, resulting in bruises. Bruises, Mum! Luckily, Hermione stopped him from doing any further damage. Harry asked what had been going on, and I was completely honest with all three of them. Ron, upon hearing this, attacked Draco, who then pinned Ron and didn't hurt him any further. Moreover, he had a good reason to, considering the all the insults Ron had said. You would've washed his mouth out with soap. Ron's wand, you might be pleased to know, considering how you take this revelation, snapped in half.

After threatening me with a nasty letter to you, no doubt a letter that he has already sent, lacking details, he left with Harry and Hermione for the hospital wing.

Draco and I also went there a few minutes later, as he had a black eye and many other bruises and I had fingerprints on my arm. He was very calm, the whole time, I assure you.

Then we ended up here, in the Room of Requirement.

I know that you usually accept my decisions and believe in my good judgment, so have that kind of faith and confidence in me this time, please. I'm not under any spells. No one is hurting his friends, and me, besides Ron. I'm not being blackmailed or talked badly of. Luna fully approves, and you know that she's a Ravenclaw, and smarter than the average one, at that.

I fully intend to have Draco over for the Christmas holidays if you'll have him, and I intend to send post to my brothers as well, to tell them of this development. I never intended to keep any of you in the dark, and hope that you all respect me and my ability to make good decisions.

Your loving (and only!) daughter,

Genevieve Weasley

That was as good as any letter describing this hullabaloo would get. I sealed the letter and folded it. I then wrote identical, less detailed letters to Bill, Charlie, Percy and the twins. Letters that just barely stated what was going on and that Draco Malfoy was part of my life, whether they liked it or not. I also asked them, all right, _threatened _them, into leaving Draco alone. Once I was satisfied with my letters, I stood up and tapped Draco on the shoulder.

He turned around, setting aside his book, _101 Quidditch Maneuvers for the Avid Seeker_, adding it to the already teetering stack beside him. He saw the notes, all rolled up neatly and sealed, in my hands. "You done?"

"Yep, my little bookworm," I teased, not quite masking the trepidation in my voice. "You know that Harry's read that book, too, right?"

He frowned at me. "Shut up, Weaselette."

"I might," I returned lightly. We sat in grim silence, neither of us willing to break it.

I could tell that he wanted to tell me that it'd be okay, but we both knew that it might not be.

"I'll go with you and we'll get these posted tonight," he paused. "Do you need to borrow Incentius?"

"If you didn't mind, Draco. I'd rather not borrow a school owl, since someone else might need one…"

"Don't worry about it," he smiled at me. "Let's go."

By this time, it was nearly midnight, and the darkness of the castle was slightly alarming. Our footfalls echoed on the stone floor, and the torches were only dimly lit, casting ghostly shadows over the corridor. Even the sudden way the staircases moved, normal in the daytime, was starting to scare me, just a little bit; the Gryffindor in me yelling for me to man up.

Tonight wasn't an ordinary night. It was riddled with consternation, foreboding, apprehension.

I reached for Draco's long, lean, porcelain hand, larger than my own, and he clasped it in his comfortingly, for once making no snide remarks as a cold wind swept through the building.

I just wanted to get this over with and get to bed. I was cold, tired, and unhappy.

We finally got up to the Owlery, and Everdeene hooted, a letter tied to her leg.

I untied my latest letter from Anonymous and tied the letter to my parents first. They were the top priority, as I was sure that they, at least, had already heard.

Borrowing school owls, I sent letters to Percy, the twins, and Bill. Charlie was the farthest away in Romania, so I borrowed Incentius for him.

Draco yawned, standing near the doorway. "Let's go to bed, Gin. We still have classes tomorrow, as well as the meeting you called for the ball."

I nodded my head, putting my letter away in my bag and putting the bag over my shoulder. "Let's go."

Draco walked me back to my dorm, arm held protectively around me while I leaned into his warm shoulder eagerly. It was just nearing one o'clock when we woke the Fat Lady at the portrait hole. Draco kissed me on the cheek goodnight and I crawled through, all the while listening to the Lady's complaints about inconsiderate students up at all hours of the night.

Luck was with me for once, and the Golden Trio was already upstairs, in bed.

I went up to my own dorm, and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.


	10. Retribution for Ronald Weasley

** I am so, so sorry for the slow update! This scene was a killer to write, and it came to me five minutes ago, so I'm updating fast. The next ones (hopefully) will be better.**

I woke up groggily the next morning, bright sunlight streaming through the large window opposite my bed.

I squinted, yawning and groaning in the typical Weasley fashion. Getting up unsteadily, I rummaged through my trunk, looking for a clean set of robes.

After fastening the Gryffindor-red ruby brooch that secured my black cloak and combing my wild hair, I went downstairs, hoping that I wouldn't see the Golden Trio.

No such luck. Harry and Hermione sat on the couch, arguing over last nights' homework, and Ron sat on a leather armchair, a sour expression on his face.

They would see me. Taking a deep breath, I walked into the Common Room, hovering anxiously near the walls, trying to blend into them.

I had been hoping to avoid a scene, but that had been impossible as of late. Ron's head snapped up, and he glared at me.

To him, I had committed the worst kind of treason. As he'd so eloquently put it to Hermione during the Triwizard Tournament in fourth year, she'd been 'fraternizing with the enemy'. Only, this time it was a _Malfoy_ whom I was 'fraternizing' with, and not a Quidditch superstar that he'd secretly admired. (Even though Draco was a really good Quidditch player, I admit it.) Draco had evidently been the source of all of Ron's (and mine, on the rare occasion that I didn't scurry away from Draco in a hurry) embarrassment.

I wished that he could understand that they weren't fourteen anymore. He was part of the Golden Trio, a savior of the Wizarding World.

In the end, Draco had gotten his comeuppance, and then some. Growing up in a loving family, Ron couldn't possibly begin to understand Draco's pains.

He needed to get that I didn't condone what Draco'd done, didn't necessarily agree with everything he said.

Now that their roles were reversed, Ron holding all the power, and Draco none, he didn't think of anything but revenge. However, what he didn't understand was that he'd already gotten his revenge, ten times over.

Before Ron could stand up, I was zipping out the door, despite him yelling for me to come back.

I was running so fast that I didn't notice the pair of strong, recognizable arms I knew grab me from behind, halting my footsteps.

"Boggart on your tail?" asked Draco, holding me to his chest. I felt the deep rumble of his laugh through his shirt as he nuzzled his nose into my neck.

"How about an angry Weasley?" I asked sourly

He looks up at me, grinning cheekily. "I can take him, Gin."

I humph as he pecked my cheek, fighting a smile.

He laughed again, letting me go. "I've got to go find Blaise, Gin. I'll see you in the Great Hall."

"Okay," I say.

He turns and walks toward the other direction, halting suddenly. "Oh, I passed Luna earlier. You distracted me. She's waiting for you in the Great Hall."

"Alright," I say, "see you."

I see Luna immediately as I walk into the Hall. Hair as pale as her's and Draco's are oddities anywhere. She stares into space until I walk up and gently nudge her shoulder.

She blinks. "Hey, Ginny."

"Hi," I reply. "Draco told me that you'd be here."

She nods. "Did something happen?"

"Why do you ask?" I have no idea why I feel so defensive.

She grins, "Just spit it out already."

So, I tell her the whole sordid story over my Belgian waffles.

"But I did owl my family," I conclude, drizzling more maple syrup over the mountain of whipped cream on my plate. "So either they'll be okay with it, or I'll get a bunch of angry Howlers."

"Would you care either way?"

"Of course not, why?" I look at her, puzzled, as I plunk three maraschino cherries on top of the syrup. One, two, three, all in a neat row.

"Because there's a red envelope coming by the way of Errol, towards the Gryffindor table."

I looked up, dread ripping into my insides. I catch Draco's eye, as he sits at the Slytherin table, and he smiles at me, shrugging in a 'can't-help-it-now' kind of way.

Ron glares over at me triumphantly, Harry and Hermione's eyes following his.

The letter comes straight at me, and I close my eyes in nervous anticipation.

I open them to a sharp jab in my side, courtesy of Luna. I turn to her, irritated, "Wh-?"

"Look!" she hisses, stifling a giggle.

The Howler has landed in front of Ron, not me, and sits in the middle of his oatmeal, smoking and wet.

To my delight, he looks terrified, and the whole Hall quiets in eagerness.

Draco catches my eye and gives me his trademark Malfoy smirk, looking like the cat that got the cream.

All of a sudden, the letter explodes; sending shredded red paper into disarray, and my mum's furious, magnified voice fills the Hall.

"RONALD. BILIUS WEASLEY, HOW DARE YOU ATTACK GINNY'S BOYFRIEND?" These three words are spoken quietly, fury emanating from each one. "I AM ASHAMED OF YOUR BEHAVIOR! MOREOVER, USING YOUR FISTS? YOU ARE A WIZARD, NOT A COMMON STREET RAT!"

Her voice begins rising. "TELLING ME AND EVERYONE ELSE BLATANT LIES ABOUT YOUR SISTER AND MR. MALFOY!"

She pauses, and Ron quivers in fear.

"SHE ALSO SENT ME A LETTER, AND I AM MUCH MORE INCLINED TO BELIEVE HER THAN I AM TO BELIEVE SUCH A MEAN-SPIRITED, SPITEFUL PERSON SUCH AS YOU!"

"SHE HAS EVERY RIGHT TO BE MAD AT YOU. WHAT KIND OF OLDER BROTHER ARE YOU? BEING A CANTANKEROUS GIT TO HER AND HER BOYFRIEND!"

Everyone's heads swivel to stare at me. Boyfriend? As far as anyone else knew, I was single.

"DRACO MALFOY SHOULDN'T HAVE LET YOU GO! HE SHOULD HAVE PUMMELED YOU INTO OBLIVION!"

"I'M GLAD THAT YOUR WAND SNAPPED, AS YOU DIDN'T EVEN SEE FIT TO USE IT!"

I heard a collection of audible gasps and whispers. Draco smirked, blowing me a mock kiss.

Glad he found this amusing.

"I'M VERY HAPPY FOR YOUR SISTER. SHE, ALONG WITH DRACO, WILL BE COMING HOME FOR THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS. YOU, ON THE OTHER HAND…"

Ron gulps, and turns a brilliant shade of puce, and I grin at Luna triumphantly. She shakes her head at me, whispering, "And you were worried, why?"

"MIGHT NOT BE."

And with that, her tirade on Ron ends.

I pick up my own mail, beckon to Luna, and we leave the Hall. On the way out, Draco catches up with us, his arm tightening around my waist as he grins at me. I stick my tongue out at Ron, childishly, and he darkens. Hermione, though, looks thoughtful and gives me a small, encouraging smile.

Score: Ron, 0. Ginny, 1.

We walk towards the Room of Requirement.

"I rest my case, Gin; your mum is bloody brilliant." Luna smiles at me.

"I know," I say, flipping my hair over my shoulder mock-dramatically.

"That being said," She frowns, winking at me, "The Ravenclaw in me needs to go study for my Arithmancy test."

She leaves us, and Draco kisses my shoulder, murmuring into my ear. "Finally. You have no idea how it was killing me, not being able to call you my girlfriend."

"Is that what I am?" I ask coyly, regarding him with lowered lashes.

He growls, a low rumbling in his chest as he pulls me into an empty corridor to kiss me.

And I was perfectly fine with that.

**Please, please, please tell me what you thought of my Howler scene! Did I get Molly right? Did I mess someone else up? Please tell me in the thingamajigger box! Remember: More Reviews show that you care about my story! (and my self esteem!)**


	11. A Letterful Class

** See how nice I am, uploading twice in one week? Thank you so much, all of you, for your continued support of this *gasp* 11 chapter long story. Please feel free to PM or review (which I hope you're already doing!) about this story. How much it sucks, how good it is, etc. Or anything else that catches your fancy. **

**Without further Ado...**

* * *

As per usual, I read my post during History of Magic, studiously ignoring Binns while I read. As usual, it wasn't hard.

I opened the post from my mother first.

Dear Ginny,

I'm so glad that you're having a Ball at Hogwarts! I know that you'd have planned it well. Remember to send me photos!

Keep practicing Quidditch. I'm sure that you'll make the team, easily too. The Weasleys have always been fantastic Quidditch players.

I know that you and Luna are both smart girls, and I'm sure that Draco knows that I'd tan his hide without a thought if he hurt you. That being said, I don't think he will.

Of course, he's coming for the Christmas holidays, if he wants to! If Ron says anything, he won't come home at all. Speaking of which, I sent him a Howler, as I'm sure you know. Lovely things, Howlers are!

Off to write a new recipe for my magazine! I swear that those Muggle women can't cook a lick…

Love,

Mum and Dad

I stifled a laugh at her last sentence. My mum would never understand muggles, even though she campaigned for them eagerly at every chance she got.

I wrote her a short letter back, thanking her for her confidence in me, and returned to the pile awaiting my attention.

The next letter was written on white parchment, with fancy royal blue ink and evidence of an expensive quill, but was still cast in the terrible handwriting that I was used to. It was slightly crumpled; proving that they'd squabbled over who would write the letter.

Ginny,

Are you completely mad? Of all the guys that we could've terrorized, you chose that ugly git?

**EXCELLENT! Don't dissuade her, Fred, what are you talking about? Can you imagine all the different things we can set on that twitchy little ferret? Oh man, we need a new product line! It can be entitled…**

'Freaking Out the Ferret!' George, you're a genius! Of course, we need someone to test these on…

**Are you thinking what I'm thinking, ickle Freddykins?**

I think I'm thinking what you're thinking darling Georgie-poo!

**Just so you know, Gin, we couldn't care less who you date, but we definitely prefer the arrogant gits!**

We're Here for you, little sis! Just let us know if you need to set his, erm, percy-sized, pompous arse on fire!

**Or drown him…**

Kill him…

**Or, worst of all,**

Publicly humiliate him!

Wheezingly,

Fred and George Weasley

Professional Jokesters/Pranksters

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes Corporation

P. s. Love you Ginny!

Smothering my laughter at their letter, I wrote a quick reply, reminding them that the only acceptable time for them to hurt Draco would be when I said they could.

I opened the next letter from Bill and Fleur. It was printed in silver ink that shone as if it were still wet, and in Fleur's delicate hand.

Bonjour Dearest Genevieve,

It is very nice to hear from you! You have a boyfriend now, non? Moreover, Draco Malfoy? If I hadn't married Bill, (He's paying attention now!) I may have been tempted to marry him myself! He is quite handsome!

Bill is making me write this part, and I agree with him for once. Make sure that you are happy with Mr. Malfoy! Or we shall make his life, how do you say, a living hell.

A ball? Dearest, make sure that you do not forget the ice sculptures, and do not put anything fattening out, I must confess that it is too much of a temptation for **most **women! Owl me if you need to borrow a dress, I'm not a model for nothing, no? Do take pictures if you already have one!

We are in the middle of a renovation project on the house, so we will owl you later, Genevieve! Bill doesn't agree with the mint green, but it is all the rage! Merci for the letter, we like to keep up with the rest of the family, even though we are rather far away!

Give my love to Molly.

To our wonderful little sister,

Bill and Fleur Weasley

Shell Cottage

P. S. We love you very much!

Fleur (Phlegm) had grown on me over the years, and even though she was still as shallow as ever, I was beginning to like her. I was glad that they weren't kicking up more of a fuss and that all was well at the cottage.

I wrote them another note back, promising pictures and agreeing that mint green was 'all the rage', because it was a lot easier not to argue with Fleur.

Percy's letter was pompous, business-like, and precise. It is as follows.

Dear Ginny,

Thank you for your letter. I do like hearing what is happening at my old school.

I am quite well. The Minister is very happy with me, and I am churning out perfect research projects faster than anyone else is. I checked.

I am sure that you'll make the Quidditch team. After all, there are three Chaser positions, aren't there? You're bound to receive one of them, being a Weasley.

And a Ball? I'm surprised that McGonagall is even allowing a ball. It's a frivolous and time-consuming activity, but I'm sure that you will plan it well enough. Erm, please be sure to send your older brother photographs, won't you?

As for Malfoy…as long as you're happy, I suppose that it doesn't matter. If he steps out of line, I will be sure to send someone from the Ministry, to 'correct' him.

Sincerely,

Percival Weasley

Ministry of Magic

High Undersecretary

Percy meant well, I could tell. I was glad that he was okay with it.

The last letter was from Charlie, and marked **'EXPRESS'** in big, bold red letters.

Gin,

I'm not going to pretend that I can stop you, but be careful with that Malfoy kid. Please?

I'm sure that you'll make the team. You always do. J

Have fun at the Ball and be sure to send me a lot of pictures.

Have to fly, literally. It's five in the morning here, and they needed me A.S.A.P. because Martinson got an extreme case of dragon pox.

Love you lots.

Wish me Luck and K.I.T.,

Your favorite brother Charlie

After addressing all the letters, including another from Anonymous gushing (as much as a guy can gush) about his gorgeous date, class was over.

I ran to go find Luna for lunch, and decided that everything was going pretty well so far.

Hopefully it would stay that way.

* * *

**And hopefully you all liked this story! I've been considering rewriting chapter 1 a bit, looking back on it now it's very pretentious and badly written. Anywho...**

**A happy author is happier when she gets your lovely (or hateful) reviews!**

**Make me want to post another chapter...*yawns*..I had a late night.**

**Toodles!**


	12. Meetings, Hunters, and Prey

**Happy Saturday everyone! Hope you enjoy chapter...whatever this is :)**

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By the time our meeting rolled around, I was a ball of pacing nerves.

I paced around and around Draco, who finally grabbed me roughly about the shoulders, nearly hissing with aggravation. "Stop!"

I wrung my hands, squirming away from him. "Where is everyone?"

"I. Don't. Know." he snaps, enunciating each word, clearly frayed at the edges by my weird behavior. "They'll be here soon, I'm sure."

"I hope so," I say.

This meeting was the most important of all of them. If the musicians had cancelled, the ballroom burnt down, or the food disgusting, it would all be _my fault_.

I imagined the triumphant glare I'd get from Ron, or the disappointed one Hermione would give me.

But, more than that, I could almost _see _the scornful glances cast my way from all of the other students. I would become a social misfit! A reject! They would storm my dorm with pitchforks and wands drawn, laughing manically, Draco and Luna leading them…

Okay, fine. That part probably wasn't likely. However, you never knew with our wacko school!

I felt Draco's hands grabbing me yet again, picking me up and placing me into a plushy armchair. Even though he was angry, he took great care not to hurt me, hands tough and gentle at the same time.

I looked up at his stony face, blushing. "I was pacing again, wasn't I?"

He nodded, smirking at me, sighing exasperatedly. "There are a few craters in the _stone floor_."

I kicked him, and he grinned. "You can stop with the panic attacks, here's Pansy and Blaise now. The rest of the lot will be here soon enough."

I nod, glancing at Pansy, who has sat down on an ottoman with an angry huff, glaring daggers at Draco and me.

Blaise winks at us, sprawled out elegantly on the couch, whereupon Draco shoves him over so he can sit.

"Hey Gin," he says, waving half-heartedly from his perch.

I nod back quickly, reorganizing all of the parchment rolls sitting on the table in front of me, lining up my three sharp Quick-Quotes quills and small marble inkpot.

When there's nothing left for me to do, I glance around the room again.

Blaise and Draco are talking animatedly about something, and their faces have undergone such a transformation that I'm struck dumb.

Draco had said that they'd been friends forever, and I could tell now. His face was pink and animated, hair sticking up in disarray, hands gesturing animatedly as he slouched into the couch.

Blaise had abandoned his, well, blasé look, talking quickly with interest flashing bright in his eyes.

I'd rarely seen either of them that happy, and it made me happy, just watching them. I slunk over to the couch, unsure. I didn't want to interrupt, not when they were like this.

I put my hand over Draco's, ever so gently, looking at him, a little scared.

However, he turns to me, smiling, carefree. He rubs the pad of his thumb over my hand, flipping it over so his covers mine.

Whereupon Blaise groans. "Get a room, already. Draco, dude, never, _ever_, let me see that whipped, wide-eyed puppy-dog look on your face again."

Draco's eyes didn't waver from mine, "if you don't like it, get out."

Feeling bold, I sit in his lap, Indian-style, grinning at Draco cheekily. "Is this okay?"

He rolls his eyes at me, glad to see me back to normal. "Oh," he drawls, "_Now _you ask?"

"Yup."

He shakes his head at me dubiously, wrapping his arms around my waist. He starts talking again, something about Blaise's mum's new boyfriend, and I sink into his broad chest, breathing in a smell that was entirely Draco's: warm, musky, and unlike anything else.

He places his chin on my head, his breath sending waves through my hair and tickling me.

Sure enough, the rest of my committee trickles in, Luna smiling at me. The rest gazed, open-mouthed Draco and I.

Finally, everyone was there, and I had to leave the warm security of Draco's hold to stand up and start the meeting.

He let me go reluctantly, regarding me from under lowered lashes, grinning lazily, knowing just what he was doing to me.

I blush, clearing my throat. "Hello, everyone. Hopefully your week has been going well."

I heard mumbled affirmation before I plowed on.

"As I understand it, everything has, for the most part, been taken care of."

I addressed Luna. "The music we have planned is still on?"

She nodded, looking dreamy, as if she wasn't really listening to me. "Yep."

"And the ballroom's set for tomorrow night, Pansy?"

She looked at me coolly. "Well enough."

I racked my brain for something else that needed to be addressed.

"Since that's all taken care of," I said, "you're all free to go. Thanks for all of your help and hard work. Hopefully, tonight will go seamlessly."

They all nodded back at me, smiling, and went on their way.

I slumped back into my chair, suddenly exhausted.

"So that went well," Draco smiled at me, sitting on my armrest.

I nodded, staying quiet. He sighed, placing his arm around me.

"Do you want to go and practice? It's Friday, no classes tomorrow."

I groaned, peeling myself from my chair. "Yeah, let's go."  
After dodging the multitudes of questions and suspicious glares, we finally made it out to the pitch. We pulled our brooms out of their sheds, orange leaves crunching under our feet.

Draco waited for me as I struggled to move another (heavy) broom in my way, leaning on his own Fireball 7777. After a few seconds filled with grunts and pushes, the heavy broomstick gave way, and I grabbed my broom victoriously.

"Aha!" I smiled, "Got it!"

Draco smirked at me. "You could've just asked for help, Weaselette."

I glared at him. He knew better. "Maybe next time, macho ferret."

He laughed, an unusually hearty boom, and carried my Silverspun for me out to the pitch.

I grabbed a Quaffle from the trunk full of Quidditch supplies, smiling as I took my Silverspun from Draco.

"Thanks," I said, twirling the Quaffle on my pointer finger. "Can you Keep?"

"What do you think?" he smirked at me.

I shoved him, "Showoff."

"Skilled," he responded, snatching the red ball from my hands as I glared at him.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Woof, woof, Draco. That's not very nice," I taunted, using a strategically placed finger to flick the Quaffle away from him and across the pitch.

"You started it!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"_You _started it!"

"_No_, you did!"

"I didn't!"

"Yes, you did!"

I dive after the still-rolling Quaffle, Draco tackling me, and I land flat on my back, whereupon he hovers over me.

"You started it."

His voice is silky smooth, like a bar of Honeydukes chocolate. I swallow, eyeing his lips, the bottom one caught between his teeth.

I shake my head at him, "you did."

He smirks at me, knowing that I'm trapped.

"Tsk, tsk," he says, running a pale finger along my jaw line, up to outline my mouth, smirking when my breath hitches and color fills my cheeks, "don't lie, Genevieve, it's not becoming."

I swallow, loud to my ears, "I'm not lying."

My face is only inches from Draco's, his legs pinning me down.

His lips ghost against my cheek, possessive, cold, distant almost. His eyes are the familiar, hungry mercury that I've become used to, and I shiver involuntarily.

"You started this," he begins, holding his hand over my lips as I begin to argue, "and you can end it."

So, I close the meager distance between us and do just that.

* * *

**A little mushy, I apologize. And onward! To the Ball!**

**Please Review :)**


	13. I Love You More

**And here's Chapter 13. Dear Readers, it is by my friend Pants' design to get this chapter up tonight, so, if you like the story, thank her for the update. If I didn't update, I think there was a guillotine waiting for me somewhere :P **

**So, without further ado:**

* * *

My eyes flew open the next morning. Today was The Day. The ball. The day that I would triumph or fail.

Okay, maybe I was overstating things. However, it didn't make me any less freaked out.

I got dressed, peaking at the clock in the room. Four in the morning. Needless to say, none of the other girls were up yet.

I crept down the stairs; slippered feet still cold on the stone steps. Pulling my fuzzy green bathrobe around me, I made my way out of the portrait hole.

Luckily, no one was awake, and I made it to the kitchens without being interrupted by other students wondering if the rumors about Draco and I were true.

The kitchens were abuzz with frantic house elves running about, trying to get breakfast for hundreds of students ready.

"Daisy! The butter, pass the butter!"

"Gordon, I need the eggs!"

"Careful! Oh, darn it, Kitty!"

They froze when they saw me, looking at me with wide eyes.

"I didn't mean to disturb you," I say quietly. "Carry on."

Finally, Dobby emerges. "Where is the raspberries?" he pauses, finally realizing what's going on right in front of him, "Miss Wheezy!"

To the other elves, he shocks me by saying, "you make the custard Dram. I'll take care of Miss."

To my surprise, they all listen to him.

Satisfied, Dobby turns to me. "What needs you, Miss Wheezy?"

"Do you have any hot chocolate about?"

He nods, disappearing into the sea of cooks.

A short while later, he returns, holding a charming little silver tray and cup, full of thick, steaming brown liquid. Beside it lay little marshmallows, a cup of sugar, milk, and a teaspoon. Beside the cup is a small serving of buttered crumpets.

He holds it out to me, and says, shyly, "Miss. Wheezy can take this to the Room of Requirement? 'Tis a bit hectic in here."

"Of course," I reply, "thank you very much Dobby."

Taking the tray, I make my way to the Room, sitting on a fuzzy chocolate brown couch, munching on my crumpets.

Retrieving a book from the shelves, I sip my cup of chocolate.

Flipping through it, I'm immersed in my thoughts until I remember. I get to see my dress today!

Abandoning my food and book, I rush around the castle and up to Gryffindor Tower.

Rushed, pulling on my school robes and tying a gold ribbon to the end of my hastily braided hair, I rush back down the stairs to go and find Luna.

While it's still very early, I jog hastily to the other side of the castle, to Ravenclaw Tower.

A sleepy looking first year steps out, and I halt her.

"Good morning," I say.

She squints at me, as if not quite believing that I was talking to her. "H-hello," she stutters out, eying me warily.

"Do you think that you can do me a favor? I really, really need to see my friend Luna. It's important. Can you fetch her for me?"

She nods, smiling diffidently. "Sure."

"Thank you," I say as she rushes hurriedly back up the steps that lead into the Tower.

About ten minutes later, a grumbling Luna meets me outside, the first year nowhere to be found.

I survey her pink bunny pajamas I can't help but stifle a giggle.

She yawns loudly, "this had better be good, Genevieve Molly Weasley. It's five a.m."

"I've been up since four. You got lucky."

"Yay me," she mutters sarcastically.

"Are our dresses finished? Can I see them?"

She sighs, "I suppose, since I'm already up," she pauses. "How about you grab some breakfast and your mask? I'll meet you in the Room of Requirement in a half hour, okay? With the dresses."

I nod, "I'll see you there."

Soon enough, I have a full breakfast set out for the two of us in the Room, even though I'd already had breakfast. I had also carefully set my mask down on a little end table.

Luna walked in a few minutes later, nursing a cup of coffee, looking much more awake, and our dresses.

I hurry forward to try to take mine, concealed by a garment bag, but she jerks away quickly.

"Not happening, Gin. We'll do my fitting first, and I'll take care of yours after lunch. Then I can get all of your stuff done at once. You are not to touch that bag until then."

I pouted, looking at her in dismay, and then, longingly, at the bag, where I could just see a bit of snow-white fabric peaking out.

She knocks me over the head. "Stop sulking, Gin. You need to help me into my dress.

The green dress has a green satin ribbon in the back, which I tie into a fancy bow for her.

She looks wonderful. The dress falls just past her knees, and the fabric looked lovely, floaty and shimmering. The square bodice with a satin, green-ribboned front combined with the capped, ruched sleeves, was whimsical. The sunflower brooch glimmered in the burgeoning sunlight.

She then produced a pair of emerald green dancing shoes, with matching sunflowers, and pulled them onto her feet.

I smiled at her. "You look like a fairy from the forest."

She looks down at herself, assessing. "I do." Twirling a bit, she continues, "but I messed up a stitch on the shoulder. It's a bit too loose."

I look at her, and she waves me away, picking up a blueberry muffin. "You go on, Gin. Go bother your boyfriend. It'll take awhile to fix this."

I hesitate, biting into my orange, looking my dress, concealed in plastic.

Whereupon, Luna tries to force me out the door, and I finally comply, snapping, "I'm going, I'm going!"

The only problem, again, is that I had no idea where Draco was, if he was even awake this early.

Grumbling about bossy friends, I run a very surprised Blaise flat.

"I'm sorry, I'm so very sorry!" I say, regaining my footing quickly and standing up.

He groans from the floor, "Weaselette!"

"I'm sorry!"

He stands up. "Where were you going in such a hurry anyway?"

"I wasn't hurrying, that was my normal pace," I say.

"Whatever," he replies, "again, where were you going?"

"To see Draco. Luna had to fix her dress and she told me to leave."

"He's still asleep."

I sigh, "I'm bored!"

"But," a glint comes to Blaise's eye, "we could wake him up."

"You evil Slytherin, you," I tease, "let's do it!"

Hence why I was creeping into the Slytherin common rooms, where I was most definitely not supposed to be, and down the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

I shivered; it was freezing in the dungeons. The disillusionment charm on me, luckily, was still holding.

Finally, we'd made it to their dorm. Blaise opened the door quietly, the well oiled joints not making a bit of sound.

It was a pretty dormitory, if you liked snakes. There were two large, king sized feather beds with silvery snake headboards, and a window where you could see the underwater life. The room was also very clean. I knew that it had to be because of Draco, he'd struck me as a neat freak.

Draco, himself, lay on the bed by the window. Snoring peacefully, he was sound asleep.

Winking at Blaise, I thrust my wand in front of me, "levicorpus!"

My coconspirator and I laughed to the bursting point upon hearing Draco shout in surprise and dismay, waking up, upside down.

"Ginny! Blaise! What are you two doing?" he thrashed around wildly, eyes silver with fury. "I want an explanation, and I want it now!"

"Well," I say, walking up to him and pecking his cheek, "I was bored."

"Glad I proved entertaining," he seethes, "but it's," he checks, "exactly six thirty three in the morning, on a Saturday, so let me down!"

"Oh, alright," I say, pouting. "Lebricorpus!"

He falls down onto the bed with an 'oomph.' And he doesn't look very happy.

Deciding that I needed to diffuse the situation before someone lost an arm; I sat beside Draco on the bed, wrapping my free arm around his naked (and very muscled) torso. He finally relaxes a little, though I can tell that he's still angry.

"What was that all about?"

"Blaise wouldn't just tell me how to get into the Slytherin common rooms, and I was bored, as I said, and here we are."

He shakes his head, deciding he doesn't really want to know my motives. He then proceeds to glare at Blaise, who hastily makes up a (lousy) excuse to leave the room.

I snuggle into Draco, who at last sighs and smiles at me.

"It's so hard to be mad at you," he eventually says, "I can't."

"You could," I reply softly, "if I made you mad enough."

"There's a breaking point for anyone, even those you love, I suppose."

I feel myself inhale sharply. "You love me?"

He bites his lip, as if nervous. However, Draco was never nervous; bothered, irritated, anxious, but never nervous.

"Do you, do you mind if I, if I tell you, erm, something?"

"Draco, you're stuttering, is something wrong?"

"Well, quite the opposite, unless of course…well nevermind that. I'll just tell you then: I've loved you for a long time, Gin."

He smiles at me lightly, trying to play it all off as unimportant, but I know better.

"You acted like you hated me!"

"I tried to hate you, had to, didn't i?"

"You could have alienated me forever, and if you had done that neither of us would be in this sort of..."

He looks at me sharply. "Don't you think I knew that? I was scared to death for you. If I'd somehow let it slip, if I failed at Legitimens, you, you Ginny, would have died."

I somehow manage to grasp how severe the situation had been for him, and my heart broke.

"Oh Draco," I manage, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes, "I love you. I love you so much," and I wrap my arms around him, tighter, feeling as if he was still in danger even though there was none.

"It's all right," he soothes, tightening his arm around me comfortingly, ever strong, my Draco. "I was never caught, was I?"

I shake my head no. "I bet," I say, not trusting my voice but unable to not speak, "I bet that you did admirably well."

He puffs a little, peacock like, and I stifle my tears and laugh. That was all over now. I had a loving boyfriend, the Ball was tonight, and everything was going smoothly. And I definitely planned on actually enjoying it.

"I love you," I say, savoring the words on my tongue, rolling off easily and honestly. It's all behind you Gin, it's all over now.  
"I love you more."

* * *

**Another detail chapter. Alas, maybe the ball will get into the next one. Thank you for spending valuable minutes of your life reading my fanfic, and have a wonderful evening.**

**Sincerely,**

**An Author That Adores Reviews**

**:)**


	14. The Ball

I'm so sorry for the long wait! Pants and Chloe especially, I'm sorry, but it is done! Please don't hate me! School hurts.

On another note, if ya'll care :) I've just recently learned to swim! It's an accomplishment for me, but don't judge me.

On that note, I suppose we can get on with the chapter. :D

* * *

After lunch, Luna was all business. Gathering up all of the makeup I owned, she complained in a very impatient, un-Luna like way.

"Ginny, don't you have any makeup at all?" she asked me crossly, looking through one of my drawers.

"Not really," I say. I never really needed, wanted, or much used makeup.

"Don't you even own mascara?" Her incredulous tone was beginning to annoy me.

"No," I say, "I have an eyeliner, but that's it." I point to the offending black pencil with distaste.

She sighs one last time before picking up my mask (none to gently) and pulling me out of my dorm with a force I didn't know she had.

Harry smiles at us as we leave from his perch on a windowsill, doing homework. "Have fun!" he calls, eyes dancing with glee at my plight.

I pull a face while Luna beams at him and he laughs.

When we get to the Room of Requirement, Luna fiddles around with the makeup, setting bottles upon bottles of makeup onto the large counter.

The Room has once again amazed me, and has transformed itself into a giant bathroom.

"Can I just see my dress once?" I ask exasperatedly. "You had it all weekend!"

She groans, "no, Ginny, you may not. The dress goes on last." Glaring at me, she points threateningly to a powder pink pouf, "sit."

Whereupon I endure the most torturous two hours of my life being poked, prodded, glossed, and drawn on with glorified coloured pencils.

Finally, she's done, and pulls out the pair of white high heels with aquamarines sewn into white flowers, and my mask.

I pulled the mask on my face, careful not to touch my hair, which was put up into a braided crown of red, sparkling blue rhinestones dripping from the loose curl that lines my face.

Then I slip my feet into the heels, instantly wishing that I hadn't.

Luna, seeing my grimace, said, "beauty is pain."

"What's gotten into you, Luna? You're all...peppy."

"Just happy," she says, "now put on your shoes!"

"Not shoes," I correct, "torture devices." But I slip into the shoes, already feeling blisters blossom under my feet.

Finally, Luna pulls out my dress, slowly, as if showcasing a masterpiece. And a masterpiece it was.

She had really done a fabulous job. I slipped it on, and turned to look into the large, tall mirror.

What Luna had done was not fabulous, but breathtaking. The makeup was perfect, black eyeliner emphasized my eyes, and ruby red lip gloss emphasized my lips.

The dress fell down to my ankles, falling slightly past. The waist cinched in perfectly, and flared out mid hip into a white sheet of fabric that cut away lithely. How she'd done this without using me as a model, I would never know.

The spaghetti straps were covered by sky blue, sparkling flowers, and the bodice dripped with gemstones.

Even the cutout back that I'd been uneasy about was perfect. The crisscrosses felt cool against my back, an alien feeling.

The mask glimmered in the lights of the bathroom, and I felt like a princess.

I tried to help Luna as much as I could, and she finally shooed me away, with the stern reminder to "not mess up my work!" in true Ravenclaw fashion.

I sat on the couch, reading another book. The cover proclaimed it to be by a muggle named Suzanne Collins, and, though slightly confusing, it had been one of the best muggle books that I'd read so far. Today, however, I just couldn't get into it, my stomach tossing and turning uncomfortably.

Finally, after hours of waiting, it was time for the ball.

The door opened, and Harry stepped in, looking handsome in a forest green set of robes, hair messy as always and face slightly flushed.

"You look nice, Gin," he says, flashing me a nervous smile. "Where is erm...Luna?"

I smiled at him. Still clueless about girls, some things never did change. "She's just finishing up, be here in a moment."

"And, um, where's Mal-Draco?"

I smiled at the effort he was making. "Oh, he'll be along in a moment."

As if on cue, or if the man (who could not call him a man after what he'd endured?) behind it had been eavesdropping, Draco made his grand entrance.

For a moment, we just stared at one another, both reluctant to tear our eyes away and speak.

I finally broke my gaze away from his eyes, drinking him in like water. "Draco."

He walked toward me, and I felt Harry shy away from me, Draco's intense gaze meeting his. Harry inclined his head, "Malfoy."

"Potter."

In a clean cut black set of robes with a crisp, silver shirt and green tie, he looked slim. Tall. Powerful. No longer was he the bullying ferret of old, he was Draco. Flipping. Malfoy.

I felt his tense muscles constrict when he hugged me, careful to not disturb my dress.

"You look beautiful, Genevieve."

"Not so bad yourself, Draco."

Finally, Luna came out, looking beautiful in her green dress. The expression on her face when Harry shyly took her hand was blissful.

Tilting his head towards the blushing pair behind us, Draco took my hand and said, "shall we?"

"We shall," I looked at him and grinning.

He held my hand silently as we descended upon the masses already gathered for the Ball, down the clear, glassy stairs into the Crystal Ballroom.

It was perfect. The entire floor was see-through, the walls a frosty, translucent white. Long, elegant tables with roses strewn on them held the assortment of foods we'd laid out, and small, two person tables were scattered about the edges of the circular ballroom.

What wasn't glass was made of pure, sparkling crystal. Draco picked up two crystal flutes full of pumpkin juice and handed one to me.

"Thank you," I said, "This really turned out well."

I ignored the stares that Draco and I were still getting, pulling him off to the sidelines to sit at white linen clothed table.

We sat down on intricate white chairs, and, pulling out his wand, he produced a boquet of blood red roses, holding them out to me.

I accepted them, breathing in the floral scent. "Thanks."

We sat in comfortable silence for a mere couple of minutes before I break the silence.

"I should really be making sure that everything is going..."

He presses his finger to my lips, "Don't."

"But-"

"Don't even think about it. It's okay."

Just then the band starts up, stringing the first instrumental on a violin.

"Dance with me?" he smirks, eyes lit up like a little boy with a present.

I stand up, "sure."

A few people I know wave, and I see Hermione talking animatedly with Grant, swaying from side to side, disguised as dancing.

Ron glowered at me and then at Hermione, and Padma glared at him in turn for ignoring her, stomping on his foot in a rage and fleeing to the bathroom.

Good choice.

But tonight it wasn't about Ron, who'd taken off after Padma, or Hermione, or even about Harry and Luna. It was all about Draco and I.

He led me into an effortless waltz, curated, I was sure, by years upon years of dancing lessons. His movements were graceful, and, unlike the disastrous Yule Ball, he didn't step on my feet once. How far away this night seemed from the other!

"You really do look wonderful, Gin," Draco purrs in my ear, making my hands tremble on his shoulders.

His head is bent down next to mine for an instant before pulling away, ploy having worked.

I blush up at him, sneaking in a quick peck on the cheek.

After a few more dances, my feet are aching.

"You alright?" Draco asks, grabbing me when I stumble in my high shoes.

"Fine," I smile, albeit a little weakly, and he notices, pulling me off to the side and setting me down in a chair like a china doll.

He pulls off the stilettos that I don't want to admit are hurting me and shakes his head.

Pulling his wand out of his robes pocket, he murmurs a spell.

"There," he said, satisfied, and standing up, "I put a cushioning charm on your shoes."

"Tha-Oh, not this again!"

This time it was Pansy, followed by her entourage.

"So," she sneers, "you weren't lying."

I don't turn around to look at her, instead putting my shoes back onto my feet, meticulously, one at a time, tightening and clasping the straps silently. I feel Draco bristle beside me, and I put my hand on his arm with a stern look that Pansy doesn't miss.

"You're pathetic, Draco. You used to mean something. Now you're sorry. brainless. A whipped, good-for-nothing Hufflepuff."

Draco stands up, and so do I. But what surprises me most is when Harry comes up to us and stares Parkinson. Down.

Luna comes up beside me and whispers, "plot twist."

I snort, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Hey, I never claimed to be even remotely perfect.

Because someone has to start this bitchfest, and my feet are feeling oodles better, I speak.

"That's rich, coming from you, Parkinson." I mimicked her, "'But he's right there, someone grab him!' You sure are a brave one."

Harry laughs as if that night wasn't still haunting him, "What do you want to bet that she was the first to leave?"

"Oh, I don't have to bet," Luna says, staring Pansy down as if to dare her to disagree, "I know."

"This is not about me," Pansy defends herself, "what I'm talking about is the two of you!"

"The two of us what exactly?"

Pansy opens her mouth, gaping like a fish before spinning on her heel and darting away.

"Deja vu, anyone?" I ask, and we all begin to giggle like inane idiots.

* * *

Okay! We did it! :) But this is not the end of the story! *cue mutterings of 'of course not'*

Till the next chapter, I am steelgray.


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